The Lawyer from Manchester
by AmeliaEverdeen
Summary: Season 1 AU: "I was only going to marry him if nothing better turned up." Patrick doesn't die in the Titanic, instead he meets a distant cousin at his father's Memorial. Matthew Crawley soon becomes his best friend and Patrick invites him to meet the only family he has left.Will Mary's definition of "something better" change now that Matthew is in the picture?
1. The Memorial

_A/N: While Mary Levinson awaits his last chapters, I decided to post this idea I had a while ago. If you like it enough and encourage me to go on I will, and I will also take on a proofreader. The updates however won't be as quick as Mary Levinson's, because I really want to take it slower this time! Anyway I'll leave you to this small introductory chapter, tell me what you think!_

**Chapter One: The Memorial.**

Matthew didn't really know why he had decided to attend that memorial. Even in that moment, staring at that inked peace of paper, he couldn't really remember the reason which had driven him to actually make that decision. Of course, rationally, he remembered that he was going to London for business anyway, so you might say he had just decided to kill to birds with one stone. But James Crawley wasn't exactly a close relation, he was a third or fourth cousin in fact, and Matthew had probably never met him in his entire life. He remembered how once in a while his father would tell him how they were distantly related to an Earl who was actually the master of a great estate. But since they never really get in touch with his father's side of the family, Matthew had always thought that those talks of castles and estates were nothing more than the fairy tales his mother used to tell him when he was a little boy.

It was a cloudy april morning in 1912, that his assistant in the new firm he had been taken on, announced the immense tragedy which the Titanic shipwreck had been. But the interesting part was, that she'd also offered her sincerest condolences because apparently one of his relatives, this infamous James Crawley, had died in the dreadful incident. Matthew had also read about the memorial in London, and without any apparent reason, he had decided to attend.

Even if this cousin didn't actually bare any titles himself, the memorial was filled with people from every branch of the aristocracy, and Matthew came to know that in the first row, alongside the poor orphan Mr Patrick Crawley, sat the famous Earl of Grantham and his family. Matthew sat in the last few rows and didn't really get a chance to see how the aristocratic family (which was also his distant family) looked like. He didn't speak a word to anyone during the memorial, but just as the service ended he decided it was only an example of good manners, to go and offer his condolences to the orphan personally.

Patrick Crawley was a genuinely good fellow, with silky brown hair and bright green eyes, who was only a few years younger than Matthew. Even if he had every right to show off his intimate relations with the nobility, Patrick had been incredibly nice to Matthew and had confided in him his uncertainties regarding his future, now that he was indeed both fatherless and motherless. They had started to talk calmly and politely, but then the conversation had become ever so engaging, and Patrick had invited him to stay at the gentlemen's club.

He was incredibly glad to have finally found a male cousin, who was also about the same age as him, and regardless of their distant relation he had started to tell him all about his life as you would do to a brother or an old friend.

"It's actually a relief to be able to talk so freely with someone for once!" he had cried after taking a smoke of his cigar.

"I believed you had many friends, seeing the big turn out for your father's memorial today"

"Of course" Patrick chuckled " I have plenty of friend! But you see my dear Matthew, such a word does not bare the same meaning in my world as it might in yours! I have plenty of great friends who I can enjoy a garden party or a cricket match with, but a heart to heart conversation... not so much!"

"But forgive me … Bearing in mind that I am indeed enjoying your company very much, why would you share such intimate thoughts with a stranger you've just met a few hours ago?"

"Because you are family! And I have never had the pleasure to spend time with a male cousin ever in my life, so I shall recover the lost time as quickly as I can!"

Matthew knew of course that it wasn't the whole reason. Without thinking too much about it he had also confided in Patrick his feelings regarding losing his father and the two young men had started to bond right away from that.

"Of course beside you there's Robert" Patrick had continued.

"Robert?" Matthew had asked not recognizing this cousin's name.

"You may know him as Lord Grantham. He is my second cousin, but he is married and has three daughters of our age, so you'll see why I haven't really painted him much as real company!"

"Of course" Matthew agreed " Are you really close with the Earl's family?"

Patrick nodded "I practically grew up with his daughters, but that has a whole different meaning behind it".

When Matthew had looked at him rather puzzled, Patrick had started to tell him about Downton Abbey and the fact that he was going to be the Earl of Grantham one day.

"The next male relative after me might in fact be you!" they both had laughed at the absurdity of such thought. Patrick had always lived in this sparkly society world, but the thought of a simple lawyer from Manchester becoming an Earl and heir to an estate was just too preposterous of a thought. The two men had then talked about women and wives and Matthew had just blushed at the whole idea in general.

"I feel I have only just started my job after years of University, and the thought of pondering on marriage already seems just too scary for me" he had chuckled " But what about you? The handsome heir to a whole estate must be the aim to many virtuous ladies..."

Patrick had smiled sadly and answered " Actually there's always been this unspoken oath which has me to marry one of Robert's daughters since I will usurp his property and title one day."

Matthew realized how reasonable the arrangement must have seemed to the Earl and Patrick's father, but he couldn't help feeling sorry for his cousin who would've never enjoyed a happy marriage based on love. The way Matthew saw it, he could've never thought of actually marrying anyone if love and true affection wasn't involved. In fact he even thought that if he was to never know love in his entire life, then he would be perfectly happy to carry on with his job until the Lord would have claimed him. "And none of this three young ladies is of your liking?"

"Well" Patrick began "I am to marry the eldest, Lady Mary. She is indeed one of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, but … and I hope I will be able to explain myself … I find very hard to bring myself to feel that kind of love and affection for someone who I have grown up with. Someone who I have seen tumble in the dirt and peel her kneels. All of her womanly virtues seem to fade away to only inspire the sincerest brotherly affection."

Matthew understood perfectly Patrick's words and he had thought about it so much on his way home. It had been surreal to be bothered with matters such as titles and estates, even if for just a couple of days. But when he had come back to Manchester, his life had quickly come back to its roots and the memory of those topics of conversation had faded quickly from the moment he and his cousin had bid each other goodbye.

But it had all come back to him that very same day when on the evening post he had found a letter from none other than Patrick.

"What is it, my dear?" his mother asked him.

"It's a letter from Patrick Crawley, the cousin I met in London"

"Oh is he the nice boy who paid us a visit a couple of months ago?" Matthew nodded "Then what does it says?"

"He tells me they're giving a ball in his honour to cheer him up after his fathers death. He says you and I are both invited."

"How lovely!" Isobel cried "Is it going to be in London?"

"That's the point. He has invited to stay with him at his cousin in Yorkshire. He has invited us to be guest at Downton Abbey, the home of the Earl of Grantham".

_A/N: So there you have it, tell me what you think of the idea. I plan to make Matthew and Patrick's friendship just as important to Matthew and Mary's inevitable romance. Now it's your turn to say if you will like to read more!_


	2. The middle-class guests

_A/N: Hello everybody! I actually cannot believe the huge response the first chapter of this story got! I was on vacation and every time I checked my email, I wished I could have my computer to keep working on this! You really inspired me! _

_Now for some announcement, this chapter still isn't proofread because my beta is working on chapter 15 of Mary Levinson and I really wanted to post this chapter today! Next one will be proofread, I promise. On that note, for those of you who also follow Mary Levinson, chapter 14 is up if you still haven't read it!_

_Regarding this fic, I want to do weekly updates since I started to study again and I don't have all the time I had with ML. If you're lucky I might post even twice a week, but I don't want make promises. Now I leave you to the chapter and I so hope it is worth the wait!_

**Chapter Two: The middle-class guests.**

"Mother, maybe we really shouldn't do this" it was about the third or fourth time that Matthew had changed his mind that morning. He was staring at the carriage waiting to be loaded with their luggages and the poor maid, Claire, going in and out from their city home with the heavy suitcases.

Isobel adjusted her gloves and snorted "My darling boy, we've already been through this. You mailed your attendance card without thinking too much and now not showing up would be unkind."

"I know but—I didn't realized at the moment. We've never really associated with people who invite you to stay over when they throw a party. I mean— that's just really scary, I think."

"That's the way they do things in their world. And forgive me, but I'm positive this Lord Grantham isn't exactly elated to welcome a lawyer and his mother in their home. I bet they will expect us to fail them or Patrick at any moment, so I'm really sorry but I won't give this kind of people the satisfaction to say they were right. So that's it, we're going." Matthew sighed and watched his mother getting everything settled helpless. "Oh and don't just stand her! Give the poor Claire a hand!"

"Of course" Matthew quickly replied absentmindedly and grabbed the heavy luggages to be loaded on the carriage.

"Do you have everything?" his mother asked him, once they were apparently good to go "Your tails, ties and everything?" Matthew nodded and watched as Mrs Bird joined them in the courtyard. "Very well" Isobel said "Mrs Bird, I wish you and Claire a pleasant time while we are away."

"It's very kind of you, Mrs Crawley. We do hope that after seeing the big castle, you will still consider us up to the task."

"Of course we will" Matthew quickly intervened. He would hate to think that his employees would consider him posh.

As the carriage left the busy Manchester street they lived in, Matthew realized it was too late to make up any more excuses. What he didn't understand was what his mother was getting out of this. Her reasons for it being impossible to refuse were understandable, but he swore he could read some kind of eagerness in her eyes. It was weird since he never thought of his mother like a curious person. Or maybe was there something else? Was she tired of her life in Manchester? Wasn't he making her happy like his father did? When they were already one hour into the journey he couldn't restrain himself from asking.

"Oh my dear boy! Of course it's nothing like that! I have never in my life wished to be anything more than I am now, you know that. If I was really keen on this trip is because I've noticed how much you've overworked yourself lately. You work so hard and then spend your weekends with me or reading a book. I'm not saying I'm not proud of you, but I really think you should see more people of your own age. You almost have no friends at all."

"Mother, you know I still write to my college mates. Plus, I don't find it essential at the moment. I've only started working and—"

"Yet I have seen you in Patrick's company when he came to visit. Your face was lit up the whole weekend. I could really tell you are really developing a great deal of affection for your cousin. I think that is why you mailed your response so quickly. In your heart you knew you wanted to go and see the world he talks about for yourself."

Matthew laid back on his seat and thought carefully about his mother's words. It was true, Cousin Patrick had managed in a really short period of time to capture his affection, and he was really pleased to see him again. He had met just a few people in his life who he had really felt such a connection. And the thought of it alone was absolutely absurd, considering the huge gap in the society which separated them. But that was something you could say only if you'd never met Patrick. His life force, his authenticity and maybe also his naivety, made him someone who was absolutely impossible to hate and also not being drawn by. As Matthew watched the setting slowly changing outside the carriage, he laid back his head and haunted by all of his thoughts, he fell soundly asleep.

* * *

The countess of Grantham, Lady Cora Crawley, was sipping her tea in the company of her daughters Lady Mary and Lady Sybil. The light coming from the windows filled up the whole room, almost making it shine, and Cora was so pleased that they were actually expecting guests on such a lovely day.

"Where is Edith anyway?" Mary asked in her poshest voice possible "Isn't she coming down for tea?"

"She's actually gone to Ripon to collect the new frock from the ball" Cora informed her excited.

Mary chuckled "I find it so funny that I am to marry cousin Patrick, but she's getting a new frock for the ball in his honour."

"Darling, you know very well this was her turn!" Cora scolded her, but knew there was something else beside the envy of a new frock.

"I am only pointing out how pathetic she looks. I hope you'll manage to control her at the ball before she makes a fool of herself."

"Mary!" Cora cried.

"That's not very kind at all!" Sybil commented.

Mary looked at her pretty younger sister and thought about how much she envied her. So young and careless, entitled to look forward to a ball simply because of the dancing and the handsome guests. That wasn't Mary's case. No, she was the first daughter and almost because she had made the grave mistake of not being born a boy, she had to carry all the responsibilities upon her shoulders. She was twenty-one years old, only four years older than Sybil, yet she was not allowed to dream like her sister, _both of her sisters _were. She bore the responsibility of ensuring the property of Downton Abbey and a safe future, so choosing her own husband, a man she was going to spend the rest of her life with, had never been an option for her. But she wasn't silly or dreamy like Sybil was, no … She did have some ambition. A great deal of it actually. She didn't have a care for love and affection, she knew people like her didn't have any use of it. But on one thing she was more firm than ever: she hated to be told what to do. If security and a position was indeed what her family wanted for her, then she couldn't understand why she couldn't secure it herself. She loved Downton of course, and she hated that it was going to be shipped off to somebody else (even their affectionate cousin), but if that was the price, she wasn't willing to pay it.

"Your ladyship, the Dowager Countess." Carson announced as her grandmother stepped in the room.

"Mama" Cora cried " We weren't expecting you! Otherwise we would have waited for you!"

"I know, I know" she cut Cora off, taking a seat on an armchair "But I heard from your driver last night that _Patrick's guest_ are arriving today, and I really couldn't miss the great entrance!"

Both Mary and Sybil couldn't help letting out a brief chuckle, before their mother's wondering eye scolded them "Mama I beg you to be a little bit more understanding today …"

"Have you met him?" Sybil asked curious "Patrick said that—"

"That he met him at the Memorial in London" Mary snorted " Yes yes … He couldn't have gone on more about it than he did. I don't think any of us could have met him, he must've been sitting in the back with all the commoners."

"Mary!" Cora cried annoyed.

"Shouldn't we be paying him the right respect?" Sybil asked naively "He's our cousin after all, isn't he?"

"You're perfectly right, dear" Cora replied proudly "We will welcome him and respect him as one of the family."

"Well" Violet intervened "We will respect him as much as you can respect a _lawyer_." she immediately recognized her daughter-in-law's disapproving look "Oh Cora, please even for an american like you, Downton receiving a lawyer, from a dusty old city such as Manchester, as noble guest , must sound funny."

"Well that is what Patrick wishes, and we wouldn't certainly be the ones to deny him that wish!"

"And that brings me to the another question" Violet began as Cora was already thinking of the worst "I think the decision of having Patrick coming to leave here with you is awfully rushed."

"Mama, what other choice did we have? He's not that much older than Mary, not so much more than a boy, and we are the only family he has left!"

"I fully understand your reasons, but couldn't he just live somewhere nearby? Crawley house maybe?"

"And live alone with the servants? Living in the gentlemen's club in London would be more appealing. Plus, if he's to be master here one day, I only find it useful that he learns and benefits from Robert's company!"

"Regardless … I don't think it is very proper since he is going to marry Mary. They shouldn't be living together under the same roof unmarried."

"_If _I'm ever going to marry him!" Mary intervened.

"Mary, please. We've already been through this..." Cora cried in exasperation.

" I know we have, but I still don't understand why must I be obliged to marry him! What if a Duke comes to Downton and asks for my hand?"

"Oh dear" Violet chuckled "If a Duke indeed comes here and asks you to marry him, then I don't think either me or your parents will object to that. But for the time being Patrick is your security and you shall keep him within your grasp." Violet's words were final and for once Cora agreed with her. The tea went on and Mary realized she wasn't allowed to pick up the topic any more. That's why she decided to bring the conversation back to the singular guest they were expecting.

"What do you think Patrick finds in this Matthew Crawley?" she realized it was the first time she was speaking his name "I mean what use could a family like ours could have in frequenting a middle class lawyer?"

"Well if time calls for desperate measures, I should find him a use!" Violet cried amused.

"Mama? What do you have in mind?" Cora asked both curious and scared.

"But for Edith of course!" she voiced as Mary couldn't contain her laughter "I suppose there're worst professions than a lawyer and Edith isn't getting any younger … or prettier for that matter." she got Cora's look again "Oh please! Don't pretend you haven't thought about it too!".

Mary's laughter was quickly interrupted by Carson barging in the drawing room again. He stood stiff and announced that Patrick was coming in.

"Cousin Cora!" he began cheerfully "Oh and you are in the company of almost all my lovely cousins!" he said as Sybil and Mary smiled and nodded.

"Good morning Patrick, how was your morning tour of the village?"

"Very enjoyable, thank you. Now before I catch up with cousin Robert, I wanted to inform you that I got a telegram from cousin Matthew this morning, saying that we can expect him and his mother for the late afternoon!"

"Thank you for the information, dear" Cora smiled "I will inform the staff downstairs."

"And were is the lovely Edith?" Patrick asked gently.

"She's in Ripon collecting her new frock for the ball."

"Splendid" Patrick cried cheerfully "I can hardly wait to see how beautiful you ladies will look tomorrow!"

Mary forced herself to smile, but as the door closed behind Patrick's back, she rolled her eyes annoyed. Patrick was way too happy and not serious enough for her taste. As she felt her mother and her granny's eyes on her, she knew that it was only a matter of time before one of them told her she could have made much more of an effort with her cousin a few moments earlier.

* * *

Meeting the family had been absolutely nerve wrecking. They had arrived late because of a carriage malfunction on the way, and some of the family members had looked rather annoyed. They had planned a grand welcome apparently, but since they got there so late, there was only Patrick and Lord Grantham there to welcome them in the hall. The ladies had grown tired and were waiting to be called up for dinner in the drawing room. Lord Grantham seemed all in all a very nice man, but his perplexity of Matthew's presence in his house was inevitably showing. During dinner, Matthew didn't really have a chance to meet his three young cousins, primarily because they were sitting on the opposite side of the table and mostly because they didn't seem to really care about him at all. Only the younger daughter of the Earl had asked him a question directly at some point, but the rest of the evening had mostly consisted in a tennis match between the Dowager Countess and his greatest defender, Patrick. If the whole family wasn't appreciative of his presence but was working as hard as it could to mask it, the Dowager simply couldn't care less and maybe even enjoyed underlining their social differences.

After a glass of Porto and a cigar during which he had really enjoyed talking about his life and work to an interested Lord Grantham, Matthew excused himself an announced he was going to bed. A footman showed him to his room but made him incredibly uncomfortable when he didn't seem to want to leave.

"Uhm … I'm sorry—"

"Thomas, sir." the man proudly specified.

"Thomas. Is there something else you need to tell me?"

"I am to be your valet, sir. Since you haven't brought one of your own."

" A _valet_?"

"I will help you get dressed and get ready for bed, sir. It's the way we do things here at Downton."

Matthew couldn't help reading a slight hint of mockery "Well in that case, if you would be that kind not to tell anyone, I think I could probably dismiss your services."

"If that's what you wish, sir."

"It is … Thomas. And thank you."

* * *

The morning after Matthew was blown away when he descended the grand staircase for breakfast. In the rush of the night before, he hadn't had the chance to admire the beauty of that place. But he didn't look at it with envy or greediness. He looked at it as you would look at a Palace, at a church, not like a place were people actually lived. When he reached the dining room, he was taken aback for a moment. He wasn't used to find so many people at the breakfast table. As he noticed his mother chatting with lady Grantham, he realized with his greatest disappointment that Patrick hadn't yet come out of his bedroom. He greeted everyone and after filling up his plate with eggs and smoked ham, he took a seat at the table, this time nearby the girls. There was only two of them, and one was the girl who had spoken to him the night before, Sybil he believed. The other one he simply couldn't remember, but provided by Patrick's description, she couldn't be the virtuous Cousin Mary. As they chatted politely, his tension was happily relieved as Patrick walked in.

"Good Morning Crawley Family!" most of them greeted back, but none with the blonde cousin's enthusiasm. Patrick took a seat beside Matthew and started to eat his breakfast.

"Robert, where is Mary? Is she sick, or something?" he asked noticing her absence. Matthew listened carefully, growing more and more curious of their mysterious cousin.

"No she's not sick," Robert answered visibly sorry about his daughter's absence "She had her breakfast very early this morning and decided to go for a walk."

"That's a relief" Patrick replied cheerfully, hoping to bring Robert's spirit up "You know, I think we might join her" he said looking at Matthew " This way I'll show Matthew around the place!"

"That is a wonderful idea!" Cora cried, her face lighting up "If you ask Carson, I'm sure he'll tell you which path she has taken. He always keeps an eye on her."

"Splendid!" the young man said as his green eyes shone in the morning light. Not everyone at the table, though, seemed to love the idea.

"But Patrick—I thought we were going to play that board game you brought us last week!"

Before Cora could scold her daughter, Patrick promptly answered "Cheer up, Edith! We'll have plenty of time to play it now that I live here. But Cousin Matthew is here and I'm sure he'll want to benefit of the wonderful views of the estate!"

"He's right Edith!" Cora intervened.

Matthew felt a little bad for his cousin and decided to intervene "Oh but I wouldn't want to be the reason of a broken promise, for sure!"

"You are not, Matthew" Robert joined the conversation "Edith was being childish, but she perfectly understands that Patrick must be engaged elsewhere. Don't you, Edith?"

"Yes, Papa" she nodded " Of course".

The awkward breakfast was finally over, and as Matthew looked at his mother going into the drawing room with Lady Grantham and his cousins, he was glad to finally spend some time alone with Patrick.

"So, what do you think?" Patrick began with a pat on Matthew's back.

Matthew sighed loudly "Well … It's has been an _interesting _twelve hours, that's for sure!"

Patrick's contagious laugh filled the chilly air of that Saturday morning, as both men kept walking through the marvelous park around the house. "You can relax now" Patrick reassured him "We don't have a butler that keeps an eye on us!"

Matthew laughed at his joke, but then said " About that … They sent some man to dress me up last night."

"Of course, a valet" but for Matthew that wasn't normal at all "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realized you don't use them within your people!"

"Don't worry" Matthew reassured him "It was mostly funny and awkward. I didn't know men in high society need help with their clothes just as the women."

"It is a funny concept now that I think about it." As they continued their conversation, they spotted a girl in a light blue dress sitting on a bench under a secular tree. "That is Mary, right there." he informed him. "Mary!" he called as he speed up the pace.

The brunette lifted her gaze from her book and turned her head in their direction. As they both reached her, she stood up and greeted them politely.

"Mary, good morning!" Patrick began "I thought I could show Cousin Matthew around, this morning, will you join us?"

His smile was charming, but it didn't seem to work on Mary "I suppose I should" she answered glancing reluctantly in Matthew's direction.

When their eyes met for a brief moment, Matthew remembered instantly Patrick's words in their first encounter. He didn't know if it was due to the morning light, but looking at her so closely now, Matthew realized she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen as well. Even her frown and her posh attitude couldn't mask her natural beauty.

"Good Morning, Lady Mary" he greeted her almost out of breath.

Mary chuckled "Please, call me Cousin Mary. Patrick has spent a great deal of time reminding us we are family."

"Alright" he mumbled "Cousin Mary".

They continued to walk along the paths chosen by Patrick, until they reach an area where they were renovating some cottages. Matthew almost wanted to kick himself for how many times he simply found himself staring at his beautiful cousin, without any apparent reason. Near the cottages there were a group of kids playing with a football and Patrick couldn't really stop himself from joining them. Thinking that his mother wouldn't have approved, Matthew decided to stand back with Mary and enjoy watching the game. It was when he accidentally looked at her again that he noticed she was rolling her eye. He didn't know why he found that amusing.

"You must really hate to have to waste your time entertaining a middle class lawyer" he said immediately regretting his words.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry, I—I just thought you shared the same concerns as your grandmother about our presence at Downton."

"Oh, Cousin Matthew … You'll find out soon enough how my opinion doesn't count much around here." she said in a serious but melancholic tone.

"I can't bring myself to believe it." he replied almost without thinking.

Mary smiled sincerely, but became serious again shortly after " Well … If you'd really like to know, I don't despise you or wish you weren't here at all. I simply couldn't care less."

Honesty was what he had asked for, and honesty was what he had gotten. Matthew didn't know exactly why he did feel so hurt by those words.

* * *

The time for the party had finally come, and Matthew's nervousness quickly increased by the instant, until Patrick had popped into his room to check up on him.

"The Crawley boys should make an entrance together!" he had said to reassure him that he wouldn't have left him alone. But has the evening progressed and more and more people came to greet his cousin, Matthew was inevitably left alone. When the music started he watched as Patrick swept away Mary gracefully on the dance floor, opening the dances for everyone. After Matthew had danced twice with Cousin Sybil and once with Cousin Edith and Cousin Cora, he realized none of the lady guests was actually interested on dancing with him. Apparently not even his last name was enough to make his profession and social status go away. He looked around the room, searching for Patrick and found him enjoying himself dancing a fox trot with a blissful looking Edith. He decided not to spoil their fun and went outside from the front door to get some air. As he held his jacket tight because of the cold, he realized he wasn't alone.

Mary turned her head absentmindedly and gasped "Good Lord Cousin Matthew, you've startled me!"

"I apologize" he said sincerely "I had no idea you were outside as well."

"Apologies accepted" she cried looking back in front of her.

"Why aren't you inside? Shouldn't you be enjoying this sort of things?"

Mary turned her head again, she didn't know if she should answer so she gave him a challenging look "Why aren't _you_ inside as well?" she replied in a sharp voice.

Matthew grinned "It's turns out I'm just as popular with your peers as I am with you" he explained. Mary chuckled. "But you on the other hand should be the star of the night, the princess of the castle. There's no place for you outside."

Mary's expression darkened "That's where you're wrong" she whispered "Patrick is the star of the night, not me" but she realized Matthew's expression demanded a deepening on the topic "It seems like … Nobody wishes to dance with me beside Cousin Patrick" she explained. Matthew was about to reply, to say that that sentence absolutely made no sense. But then he went through his memories, and realized he had never indeed seen her dance with anyone else but Patrick that night. He simply looked at her, unable to provide a consolation, thinking that asking the reason would have been very rude. Mary thought she didn't have anything to lose anymore, so she decided to explain the matter "You must've heard that I will probably have to marry Patrick one day" Matthew nodded blushing lightly "Maybe it was silly but—I thought that if I could find someone better than him, then I wouldn't have needed to be obliged to take him against my will." Matthew followed carefully, pleased to be discovering a whole different side of Lady Mary "But tonight I realized that even though it has never been announced, everyone in society has made the right math after Cousin James died in the Titanic. Now I'm simply considered Patrick's property, and nobody cares enough to dance with a girl who's already taken. Even if not officially."

"Do you want to—" Matthew replied almost instantly "I mean— Would you like to dance with me?"

Mary chuckled taking Matthew by surprise "Am I already an object of pity in your eyes, Cousin Matthew?"

"Oh, no! Please, Cousin Mary! I didn't mean to insult you, I—I"

Mary waved her finger to hush him and chuckled again "Please, Cousin Matthew! If you really want to get to know me, you have to start noticing when I am in fact teasing you!" Matthew blushed violently and let out a nervous laugh "I guess I wouldn't mind dancing with my middle-class cousin" she said and Matthew unknowingly lit up "But don't you think this will rise some unwanted questions?"

This time Matthew recognized her teasing tone. He grinned and replied "Oh Cousin Mary,I don't think anyone should be alarmed to see the first daughter of the Earl of Grantham dancing with her poor middle-class cousin, am I right?"

And as she gracefully accepted his hand, they looked at each other in a strange new way but the moment was so brief non of them really did notice.

_A/N: Alright, what did you think? I hope you don't think Mary is too much of a bitch, I've tried to paint her as her season 1 self, but I hope I've shown her vulnerability as well. In my vision she isn't instantly opposed to Matthew like in canon because he isn't being imposed to her, and to me that's what really sets Mary off in season 1. _

_Talking about Patrick, I was thinking about doing a cover for the story, so I wanted to ask you who you would cast as him. Remember dark hair, green eyes and it doesn't matter the nationality of the actor, we only need his face :P_

_Until the next time!_

_x_


	3. It's the thought that counts!

**A/N: **Heeello! Many thanks for the continued support and enthusiasm for this fic that is just at the beginning! I can't wait for you to read what happens next, I hope I'll be able to wrap my mind around it! In this chapter the story goes on, but it will take a few more chapters to get to the point.  
Well, enjoy this for now, and please let me know what you think!

Kudos to my beta **jmu**!

**Chapter Three: It's the thought that counts!**

It was the third morning in a row that Matthew had woken up covered in sweat. He tried to assume a more steady position on the bed while he dismissed Thomas who had just brought him some tea and biscuits. He grabbed his watch to look at the time and remembered he had been woken up earlier because of the riding trip with Patrick that morning. Well for one thing, he wouldn't have had to go down for breakfast that morning, which was a relief. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the company, but more that he was afraid of what that company was doing to him. Ever since Patrick's Ball and that one dance with Cousin Mary, he had found it very difficult to fall asleep and had been waking up almost agitated. He didn't know what or who he was dreaming about, but he knew that whatever it was, it was haunting him and surely had something to do with Downton Abbey. Also he had found it very enjoyable to be woken up by somebody else in the morning, bringing a hot cup of tea to his door. When he looked back and realized how the Abbey place had influenced him, he almost didn't recognized himself. But maybe the most alarming thing was that whenever he had felt Cousin Mary's eyes on him, he had noticed a big rush of heat immediately investing his body. The sweat caused by the heat would make him feel as though he was having a déjà vu.

Noticing all of those things had made Matthew want to go back to Manchester as soon as possible. It was not that he wasn't enjoying himself (in fact, it was the complete opposite), but he did feel that he needed to breathe familiar air to get a good sense of his own self again. What was he thinking, enjoying that luxurious life style? What was he thinking, staring at the lips of the daughter of an Earl? Matthew considered himself a simple man. He led a very nice life, but it was simple indeed. It wasn't made of balls and Ladies and sparkly dresses. It wasn't made of estates and garden parties. No, it was made of busy city streets and piles of legal papers.

As he stood up and started to wear the riding gear his cousin had lent him, he decided he would go back to Manchester as soon as possible. He had already pleased his mother and he could always see Patrick in London or go visit. When he was ready, he put his hat on and glanced at the sky, beginning to clear outside the window. It was time to go.

* * *

Robert walked down the grand staircase of Downton Abbey with his faithful dog Pharaoh following him behind. He had just changed from his morning clothes and was about to join his wife and daughters in the drawing room for tea.

"Mama!" He cried surprised when he stepped into the room. "I'm surprised to find you here again today. You've been coming quite more often lately!"

"One finds herself quite bored alone in her own house, when there are such peculiar guests here!" The old woman replied.

Sybil decided to address the big question mark that appeared on Robert's face. "Granny has become quite fond of her bickering with Cousin Isobel," she explained, giggling.

"And to my greatest disappointment, she isn't even here! Apparently she has decided to visit the local hospital. What kind of proper woman would miss tea because of _that_?" Violet spoke as though Isobel had missed the opportunity of having tea with Her Majesty herself. The girls' irrepressible chuckles were almost immediately put to rest by the Earl, who didn't tolerate them as well as his mother's sharp tongue.

Luckily Cora decided to intervene. "Where are the Crawley boys?" She asked cheerfully, with a loving smile only for her husband.

"Yes, where are they? We thought they were meeting up with you before lunch!" Edith cried impatiently.

"I'm afraid they've sent Lynch back, saying that they would prolong their ride and get a bite to eat in a pub." Robert informed them while he took a seat and sipped his tea. Sybil tried to contain her laughter when both her granny and her eldest sister rolled their eyes at the word _pub_.

"They seem to be very fond of each other," Cora commented.

"I think Cousin Matthew is really nice!" Sybil stated cheerfully, receiving her mother's approval for her behaviour.

"_My my,_" Edith started. "How come we haven't yet heard a harsh middle-class joke, yet? What is it Mary? Are you softening up?" She teased maliciously.

Mary lifted her gaze at once. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means we all saw you dancing that last waltz with Cousin Matthew on the night of the Ball."

"So what? You danced with him as well and Sybil danced with him _twice_!"

"But then, none of _us_ had all of those conversations that you and Matthew were having in the garden or at dinner, or after! It'd be naïve of you to think that we don't have eyes!"

"_Oh, please, _as if I could ever consider him! Edith, even you know me better than that! Besides, I won't deny that I have been enjoying having a conversation with a man without any marital expectations from either side. Is it a crime now to enjoy a harmless conversation with a cousin?" Mary recalled the conversations she had had in the past few days with Cousin Matthew. There was a truth to her words. She had really enjoyed spending time with a man, only for the fun of doing it and not because her parents expected something, anything, from her. He was her cousin (the one she didn't _have _to marry) and she could just go and talk to him whenever she liked. It was almost liberating. Plus Cousin Matthew wasn't as boring as she had thought. He was very well educated and talked about a world which was significantly far from hers. But she didn't necessarily agree with everything he said, which made their conversation more challenging and unexpectedly exciting.

"Mary is right," Robert decreed. "Matthew is a nice fellow and a terrific conversationalist. And I'm not afraid to say that he has been a great influence on Patrick."

"Has he now?" Violet asked. "I'm not quite sure I want know what you mean."

"You all know Patrick … He's a good boy, but he's never been that interested when it came to the estate, the cottage renovations, and so on. But yesterday when we went around with Matthew, he was incredibly proactive and kept asking Matthew for legal advice. I also know Matthew's helping him with poor James's investments. It looks like he won't need to hire Murray after all."

"That's nice, isn't it?" Cora cried in her sweet voice. "When will Cousin Matthew and Cousin Isobel return to Manchester?"

"They will leave the day after tomorrow for London to help Patrick handle some business and then they're going to go to Manchester from there. It looks like we'll have to start saying our goodbyes." Robert said, smiling, even if with a tiny hint of sadness.

"Papa," Sybil caught his attention. "But in what way are we to leave our acquaintance with them?"

"Well," he began, "I don't see why we shouldn't write to them sometimes … And maybe if you all agree, we can ask them back for Christmas. Matthew has told me that the closest relatives they have live in another country, and so they never really reach out for the holidays."

"Well," it was Violet's time to intervene, "I guess it wouldn't be right to deny Patrick his cousins' company for the holidays. And if Cousin Matthew makes him more focused on the estate, then all the better."

"Then it's decided. We will invite them for Christmas! I'm sure Patrick will be pleased!"

* * *

Patrick was pleased indeed. That had actually made it impossible for Matthew to refuse the invitation. Of course he would have loved to spend Christmas with Patrick and the rest of the family, instead of it being just him and his mother, reminiscing about Christmas Days when his father was alive. It would have surely been nice for a change, and he wouldn't have to watch his mother sadly lost in her memories. Going back to Downton Abbey, when he had just made up his mind to leave it for good for his own sake, certainly wouldn't make things easy. But he had, indeed, accepted the invitation in the end, and even let himself look forward to it. Maybe he only needed some time to cool off. Maybe if he were to take Downton Abbey in small doses it wouldn't affect him as he feared, it wouldn't change him.

But before bidding goodbye to Patrick in London, Matthew did something he thought would set things straight, if not for Patrick, then at least for himself. He recommended being nicer to their cousin Mary. He recommended that Patrick try to become closer to her. If marrying other people was not to be an option for them, then Patrick had to try to build their relationship, if not on love and attraction, then at least it could be on friendship and trust. Their marriage may have even worked better in the long run. And if Matthew could actually picture Patrick and Mary as a couple, then maybe _his mind wouldn't wander to where it shouldn't_. Matthew was sure that if he had to see Mary as Patrick's, then his mind, body, and soul would drop all of those inappropriate thoughts gladly.

He didn't, of course, tell Patrick about his personal reasons guiding this particular advice, but he knew his cousin had listened to every word of it. Just like he had been carefully listening to him and his advice since their friendship had started to grow. It was nice to have found a younger brother in Patrick, and as the carriage hit the road to bring back Matthew and his mother to Manchester, he hoped that his cousin would be ready for the months to come.

Patrick was a light-hearted, life-loving, genuine young man. The trouble was that he had never really _done_ anything in his life. Everything he had, he had been given. And while Matthew supposed that was the way that every aristocrat lived, and passed the torch from heir to heir, he wasn't quite sure that an inexperienced person such as Patrick would be able to handle all of it at once. Dealing with his late father's investments, the cottage renovations plan, Robert's tips on running the estate, and - last but not least - the loveless arranged marriage with Mary. Matthew wasn't sure that _he himself _could havehandled all of it, despite his having worked his entire adult life, or at least, had been given the education to work. For all of those reasons Matthew had recommended that Patrick try to become closer with Mary. If he would be able to recognize the beauty, the eloquence, and the good spirit of Cousin Mary, then – combined with all of the happy memories that Matthew was sure the two cousins shared - maybe Patrick could make it through the transitions more easily and with a good marriage from which to gain comfort.

* * *

Days, weeks, and months passed quite quickly and Matthew happily noticed that he had been right about coming back to his hometown. As soon as he had been back in Manchester, and back working at the firm, routine had kicked in and he had very gladly submerged himself with so much work that he didn't even have time to remember that he had a cousin named Mary.

Well, he _remembered_ of course (especially when a letter from Lord Grantham or Patrick arrived), but his return to his old life had certainly managed to keep his mind busy from anything else. Actually now that he could think more clearly about his visit to Downton Abbey, he realized he had been so incredibly eager to get out of there because his conscience had been scared, and horrified, by his unexpected attraction to his cousin Mary. Now that he could look at the matter with a fresher mind set, he decided that he couldn't keep beating himself up about her. He was a man, and Cousin Mary was a very attractive young woman, and he certainly couldn't be blamed for having noticed that. Maybe he had been so shocked about his feelings because he had never felt so strongly drawn by a woman, but it was not as though he had fallen in love with her. No … he had been so stupid to stress about it so much. There was absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, and most importantly, Lady Mary – _Cousin Mary _– hadn't shown the slightest interest in him, so there you have it. Matthew wasn't going to be the cause of any sorts of trouble and could now admit freely to even being a little bit excited to go back to the Abbey. Who knows what his Crawley side of the family would have in store for him now.

Isobel, on the other hand, wasn't as happy as her son to be back in Manchester. But she hadn't been bewitched by the great crystal chandeliers or the five-course meals of Downton Abbey. While there she got confirmation that Matthew was _happier_ in the company of people his own age, especially his long-lost cousins. Isobel always knew that her dear boy was the Shy type ever since he was little; she had also known that that aspect of his character had intensified after her husband died. But following their visit to the Abbey, where Matthew had proven to be sociable not just with Patrick but also with his female cousins (well, mostly, Lady Mary and Lady Sybil), Isobel had thought that after enjoying himself so much, he would've tried to meet new people once back in Manchester. She had sadly found out that was not the case. Matthew had thrown himself back into work, consuming him every day and weekend, just as they did before. He wasn't exactly crying out for help, but Isobel couldn't shake the feeling that this was just not the right way for her son to be leading his life. She just hoped that she could, somehow, find a way to make things better. But their imminent visit to Downton Abbey for Christmas had to be enough, for the moment.

"Good morning, Mother! It's a good day, isn't it?" Matthew greeted her one cold December morning.

"It is, my dear son! It's good to see you in such an excellent mood! Maybe our imminent departure has something to do with it?" Isobel smiled while investigating.

Matthew looked at her amused. She had been doing that for a couple of months now. "I am eager to spend Christmas at Downton, but it's not what you think. It will be a nice little break, that's all."

"Surely you must be happy about spending time with Patrick and your other cousins."

"Indeed I am. Although I'm not so sure my other cousins share the same excitement. They probably had hundreds of dinners with far more interesting people while we were away. I'll be surprised if they even remember us!" He cried, joking about their relatives' lifestyle.

"At least you'll have Patrick's enthusiasm to make up for it!"

Matthew chuckled. "We can always count on that," he said, remembering his cousin's ways of fondness.

On that afternoon the carriage was loaded and ready to carry them to Yorkshire. While Mrs. Bird and Claire thanked their employers for giving them the holidays off, they hoped once again that they would be returning to allow them to keep their jobs. The journey was far more pleasant this time around, and luckily there was no carriage malfunction to endure. They arrived to Downton Abbey in time to get changed for dinner, in the same bedrooms that hosted them before, and then joined the family (with both the Dowager and Lady Rosamund present) in the drawing room.

"My dear chap!" Robert welcomed Matthew. "How has life in Manchester been treating you?"

"Same as always, I'm afraid. But I'm sure that Patrick has been spicing up your country life, hasn't he?"

"He definitely is," Robert said, placing a hand on his cousin's and heir's back. Patrick smiled a little but looked rather uncomfortable. Matthew decided to ignore that little detail for the moment and let Lady Grantham, Cousin Sybil and Cousin Edith greet him and include him in another meaningless conversation. It was when his gaze wandered around the room and landed on Cousin Mary, talking to her aunt, that he noticed something. He simply smiled and raised the champagne glass to greet her from the distance. As soon as Mary felt that set of blue eyes on her, she managed to raise the glass quite clumsily and put on the most convincing smile that she could master. Matthew was struck by that image; never during his short acquaintance with her had he witnessed his elegant cousin looking uncomfortable or clumsy. Even when he had found her outside the front door on the night of Patrick's Ball, and she had confessed her distress to him, she had never shown the kind of emotion that just displayed. Something must have happened, something concerning both Mary and Patrick, seeing as they both appeared unwell on this evening. After one of the most awkward dinners he ever had, sitting between Patrick and Mary, Matthew decided to delay Patrick for a moment while Robert had already reached his family in the drawing room.

"Patrick, dear fellow. May I ask what is troubling you?"

"Oh Matty …" Apparently that was the nickname Patrick had coined just for him. "I tried to follow your advice these months, but it all blew up in my face!"

"What do you mean? What advice of mine blew up in your face?"

"The advice about Mary," he said without being able to stay still for the nerves, "I tried to be nicer to her, but it only made things worse! I think she probably hates me right now!"

"Of course she doesn't hate–"

"I have … invited her to walk, given her flowers, given her poetry books … Honestly, I don't know what more I could have done! I thought she would be flattered by my actions, but instead she has looked embarrassed, insulted by it!"

Matthew looked at his cousin carefully. Even if he had already identified the problem halfway through his sentence, he let Patrick blow off all of his steam. "My dear cousin, I'm afraid you have misinterpreted my advice …" he started to explain.

"But you told me to get closer to her!"

"Surely, chap, I did not tell you to _court_ her." Patrick looked puzzled; evidently he didn't grasp the difference. "If you think that this whole arrangement isn't just as hard on Mary as it is on you, , then my dear cousin you are wrong."

"I never thought about it like that," Patrick sounded defeated, ashamed almost. "I've always seen it as something they all expect from me."

"But it isn't. It's something they expect from Cousin Mary as well. In fact I'm pretty sure that, if you were to find another girl you'd prefer to marry, I don't think they would be angry at you. They would just be disappointed that it didn't work out with Mary. But for Mary, it's different. I don't think she gets much say in the matter." He paused to make sure his words resonated with Patrick. "When I told you to become closer to her, I meant … talk to her more sincerely, try to see how she feels, confide in her, try to make her smile … something simple. You don't need to flatter her; you need to make her feel safe. If you are to go into a marriage with a strong friendship, then that most likely will make a happy marriage. Maybe not a passionate one, but a happy one indeed."

Patrick breathed heavily as he took in all of this information. He wasn't sure he could do it. He wasn't sure he knew the best way to talk to Mary. Matthew, on the other hand, seemed to. He was always helping him when he needed him to, even if Patrick hadn't asked. "I'm sure if you would be here to guide me and prevent me from doing more stupid stuff, it would be much easier." Matthew chuckled gently and patted him on the back to hint that it was time to go back into the drawing room. Patrick chuckled in returned and pulled himself together. "There's still one thing I don't understand," he said, but with a lighter tone this time, "I thought girls loved walks and flowers and poetry!"

Matthew laughed whole-heartedly, but tried to be composed as Carson shot them an annoyed look. "I don't think the problem was your gestures. It was more about their meaning." Patrick looked more puzzled than ever. "You did nice things for her, alright … But did you _mean_ them? Did … the petals of those roses remind you of the softness of her skin, or... those verses of her beauty and charm?"

Patrick paused for a moment, looking at Matthew carefully. "I guess not," he admitted.

"And do you think Cousin Mary didn't notice that?"

* * *

The next morning was Christmas Eve, and Matthew woke up in a very good mood. He was happy he had helped Patrick once again, and there was simply nothing like waking up in the beautiful setting of a country estate. As he got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, he realized that he still didn't feel completely satisfied with his ways of trying to help Patrick. He knew there was something else that needed to be done, and as he sat at the breakfast table and noticed Mary's seat empty, he realized what he needed to do. He didn't know if it was entirely for Patrick, or because he had been looking forward to speaking, even for just a few minutes, with the eldest of his Lady cousins. But when he spotted her, sitting on her favourite bench, right after breakfast, he decided to gather his courage and talk to Mary. Halfway to his destination, he slowed his pace, not wanting to appear eager or desperate, and as he reached her, he noticed that she looked as moody as she did the night before.

"You know," he began, "No one should look this sad on Christmas Eve." He said, taking a seat beside her. "Didn't they tell you that Santa Claus is coming to town?" Matthew joked, hoping to lift her spirits.

Mary had smiled once she noticed his presence, and when he made the job about Santa Claus, she couldn't help but a brief chuckle. "Oh, Cousin Matthew! I'm very sorry for you, but if you still believe in Santa Claus at your age, then I have bad news for you!" She teased him, feeling a lot better already.

"Spoil sport!" He teased her back, glad that he could hear her laugh once again. "Are you quite excited to find out what your parents and sisters have gotten you as presents?"

"Not really. Every year I politely let them know what I would like to receive, so that there are no hard feelings on Christmas night!"

It was Matthew's turn to chuckle. "I guess no one wishes to suffer your wrath."

"Exactly," she smiled charmingly.

"Speaking of hard feelings," he then started, already spotting signs of distress on Mary's face, "I learned from Patrick of your recent debacle …"

"_Please_ … As it isn't already hard enough, he's even decided to make fun of me!"

"I don't think he was making fun of you. But I'm afraid to say that, actually, this whole thing might be my fault after all." Mary locked her eyes with his searching for an answer. "Before I went back to Manchester last time, I suggested that Patrick put more care into your relationship... that he try become closer to you."

"But why? Why would you suggest that?"

"Because I knew that all of the changes were going to be hard for him! Dealing with his father's Will, learning how to run Downton, the arranged marriage... I thought that if he could at least smooth things with you, then you could help him going through the rest. I wanted you to be friends; I never meant that he should try to buy you with flowers and meaningless poetry."

"Sure," she said bitterly, taking Matthew by surprise. "You all care about poor Patrick and all that he's going through! That just goes to show, not even _you_ care about me and how I feel at all!"

"On the contrary!" Matthew quickly replied, and grabbed her hand without even thinking. "I care about you a great deal!" As soon as he spoke those words, and looked at his hand holding hers, he realized how it must've looked. He lifted his gaze and they stared into each other's eyes for a few infinite seconds. When he finally felt heat filling his cheeks and noticed Mary's face getting redder and redder, he let go of her hand and coughed to clear his voice. "What I mean is … If you will be forced to marry Patrick, then I'd want you to feel safe with him, to trust him … if not as a lover, at least as an ally, a confidant. You have known Patrick since you were a little girl; I know you must love him."

"I do, but not in the way that I should. I care for him as I would for an annoying older brother from whom one need a break sometimes. To try to _care for_ him, or love him the way a wife should, that just feels sick … wrong."

"I guess the greatest thing we can do in life is try to make the best out of what has been given to us. However much we want to run away, or storm off from the restrictions." Only silence followed Matthew's words, and as electricity filled the air between them, he and Mary heard their names called and turned to see who was the speaker.

* * *

That same night Matthew was more than happy to see that his intervention had seemed to have lifted both Patrick's and Mary's spirits, as he could tell that there seemed to be no more awkwardness when they talked with each other. Matthew had to admit that he was incredibly surprised to find out how they celebrated Christmas Day at Downton Abbey. Not even he and his mother had ever let Mrs. Bird and Claire celebrate on their own during the holiday. But at Downton it seemed to be a tradition: the servants would have their own celebration at lunch, leaving their masters to serve themselves, then reprise their services for the big dinner. Another great surprise came after dinner when Lady Grantham insisted on playing Charades. The game, which provided entertainment and laughs for the participants, only proved to Matthew that his blazoned relatives were not so different from him, at least in spirit. Right after midnight it came the moment to exchange gifts, and after Isobel gave her granddaughters the pretty decorated handkerchiefs she had bought them, Cora, Robert and Mary approached Matthew with a present for him. Matthew thanked them politely and proceeded to unwrap the squared present. He didn't understand at first what it was, but when he flipped it upside down, he realized it was a vinyl recording from a show which was very popular in the West End at the moment. He smiled looking at the coloured cover, surprised that Lord Grantham had somehow discovered his secret passion for musical theatre.

"We hope you like it," Cora cried excited. "It was actually Mary's idea," she informed him.

Matthew was about to express his gratitude and his appreciation for the gift, but when he heard that it had been Mary's idea, he turned to face her almost automatically.

Mary smiled, "I saw you eyeing Papa's collection with interest the last time you were here, so I thought you might like it."

"I—I love it, thank you. It—it was really thoughtful of you."

"Well," Robert interrupted the moment, "I do hope you have a gramophone, though. Otherwise it is pretty useless."

Matthew chuckled at Robert's practical sense. "I don't actually, but I will make sure to get one now." He smiled politely, glancing at Mary one last time before Patrick attacked him from behind.

"My turn, my turn!" Patrick cried, giving Robert a complicit look. Matthew turned to face his hyperactive cousin and waited. "My gift isn't something you can unwrap," he explained. "Well I did get you something you _can _unwrap, but then I talked with Robert and _this_ is much better than any gift!" Patrick cried cryptically. Matthew turned his head to Mary and Cora who both shrugged, as oblivious as he was. "I know it will sound almost crazy, but your mother agrees that it is a wonderful idea!" _his mother was onto this too?_ "I beg you, Matthew, to think about it carefully before you give us your answer."

"Dear cousin, I might actually give you an answer if you tell me what is it!" He joked, and Patrick chuckled nervously.

"We want you to move to Yorkshire, to Downton, as a matter of fact." he stated clearly.

"Patrick, uhm... Cousin Robert, you understand why I couldn't possibly accept such an off—"

"Oh please Matthew, you promised you would think about it for a second!" Patrick whined.

"There's a small house on the estate which we never use. It's larger than the cottages, of course. We call it Crawley House. We think it would suit you and your mother very well." Robert explained. "We would never interfere in your lifestyle; in fact, you would be welcome to bring your own servants from Manchester."

"You know how much we enjoy each other's company," Patrick added. "You've seen how helpful you have been to me already!" He kept trying to convince Matthew.

"But surely, you realize I have a job and—"

"You can find a job in Yorkshire as well," Isobel joined the conversation. "With your credentials and your dedication, I think it shan't be very hard!"

Matthew was speechless. He didn't know how to respond; he was so overwhelmed he couldn't even process the information clearly in his head. He realized that he didn't have many excuses. He didn't have anything or anyone tying him to Manchester. Objectively, he knew he could only gain something by moving to Yorkshire, but there was something inside of him which told him that something could go terribly wrong if he did. In between the confusion of all of the voices and eager looks of everyone around him, Matthew found comfort in Robert's hand affectionately placed on his back. "You have been a tremendous help to Patrick these months," he told him once they could talk more privately. "I was naïve in thinking that he would've been happy here with us. The truth is, there's nothing like the care and affection of a brother. And that's what Patrick has found in you. If there's a special someone in Manchester, someone who you haven't told your mother about, then I will understand if you wish to stay there." He smiled. "But if not, please don't feel obliged to refuse our offer. I am not taking pity on you and your different life; it is quite the opposite. I believe your humility and ethics would be a great influence on Patrick and his future here, and who knows… maybe it would be a great influence on my daughters too. Just, please, think about it." And it was thanks to those words that when Matthew looked up and glanced at Patrick and then at Mary, that he could justify the decision he had just made.


	4. Flowers in Your Hair

**A/N: **_Hello you guys! First things first, I want to address that review where you asked me if Patrick likes Matthew, I laughed like a maniac. I knew I might have painted him a bit too sensitive, and I have to admit, this next chapter doesn't do him much credit (you'll see what I am talking about). But no, our Patrick is not gay, despite everything (ahaha)! Secondly I want to thank the support you are showing me, seriously your reviews are a delight!_

_I'm posting the chapter rather early in my schedule because I had some time and inspiration. But also because I'm going home for the holidays tomorrow, which means I'll either have more time to write, or no time at all! Depends on friends and family ;) _

_So if I don't post anything before Sunday, I want to wish you a happy easter, or just simply happy holidays! And last but not least, a big shout out to my lovely beta __**jmu**__, this fanfiction wouldn't be the same without you! ;)_

**Chapter Four: Flowers in your hair.**

_- April 1913-_

So Matthew and Isobel had moved to Downton. _Of course they had moved_, Matthew thought during the days that followed the New Year's celebrations. When he had actually found himself agreeing to the absurd proposal, he'd had so many doubts but had also realized there was nothing he could have done to discourage either his mother or Patrick. Now that they had made the big step, Matthew was actually glad he had agreed to it. He had been wrong to feel so reluctant at first. His life wouldn't have to change all that much. He had found a job in Ripon right away, and had dived right into it. Now the only main difference in his life style was that he got to see Cousin Patrick more often. But as much as Patrick's company was comforting by itself, Matthew had other reasons to feel glad about Downton. In the familiar setting of Manchester he had never seemed to notice how his mother was getting on after his father had left them prematurely. She had always been a strong woman, and Matthew had never read anything more than strength into her dealings with her husband's death. But now that they had moved, Matthew could see clearly that she had been in need of a change, and that she had been for a little while. Just getting everything organized and redecorating their new house had sent Isobel into overdrive. Now that she had been working on the Board of the local hospital, she seemed to have found her place. Matthew couldn't be more pleased.

"You see, that is why you can't simply write _'add more tiles for the floors'. _You have to talk with the head of the builders, show him your idea and ask him for an estimate. That way you can write in the accounts book just how many more tiles and the price of them... are you listening to me?" Matthew sounded kind of annoyed towards the end of his explanation. Patrick had come to see him in his office in Ripon to talk about the renovation of the cottages. The problem was that Patrick's mind seemed to be elsewhere. "_Patrick?!_" Matthew called him once again.

"Uhm?" Patrick mumbled, looking up from the page he was reading. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I wasn't following."

"I can see that," Matthew cried, exasperated. "What I can't understand is what is so interesting about that accounting notebook that you can't seem to pay attention," he joked, trying to lift the mood. "Is there something you don't understand? Let me see..." He stretched his hand to grab the notebook Patrick was holding.

"No!" Patrick cried, but Matthew had already grabbed the notebook which revealed another book hidden behind it.

"You are reading a _novel_?!" It was a statement more than a question. Matthew couldn't believe his own eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Patrick cried. "Really I have no excuse!"

"Yes, you don't." Matthew said seriously. "Dear chap, you know I don't mind helping you with your duties for the estate. But you can't come here to my workplace if you're not going to show the slightest interest in these matters!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I've just been so frustrated with all of this stuff. I can't help but feeling a little bit stupid sometimes. And you work so much! I didn't want you to spend your precious weekends with me nagging you then too about these things."

Matthew let him explain himself. He was still really annoyed for what he had discovered, but he realized he couldn't stay mad at Patrick forever. He let out a sigh, then a chuckle and said "What is it that you're reading?"

Patrick laughed nervously, "Ehm … Nothing special."

"_Hell no_!" Matthew cried. "You are not going to get out of this one! If that has grabbed you so much that you made me talk to myself like a lunatic, I _must _know what it is about!"

Patrick blushed but decided to give up. He slowly raised the novel to show Matthew the cover. _Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen_.

Matthew's pupils dilated and he tried his best not to laugh in Patrick's face. "You do know that that is a ladies' novel, right?"

"Yes," Patrick whispered. "That is why I'm not advertising it! Don't tell me you haven't read it! It is quite good."

Matthew chuckled. "They made us read it at school, thankfully. That book doesn't look good on a grown man!" He cried, amused. "I can't wait to hear what Cousin Mary has to say about it!"

"Oh no please! You can't tell Mary, I'd never hear the end of it!" Patrick cried, positively scared. Matthew had come to know how Cousin Mary could have that effect on people. "It's just that I have been thinking a lot about what you said … That probably Robert wouldn't object if I were to find someone I want to marry instead of Mary."

Matthew stared at him for a moment. He hadn't meant to drag Patrick away from Mary; quite the opposite "Ehm, Patrick, surely I wasn't encouraging you—I don't want to cause you trouble with Cousin Robert!"

"Don't worry, I'm just talking hypothetically. I thought about it and … I think I'd quite fancy marrying because of love too." He continued, facing Matthew's doubtful expression. "Oh, don't look at me like that! You've seen how things are with Mary! I'm sure that she would be much happier to marry some other rich gentleman instead of me! It's been almost a year! I tried, she has tried, but there seems to be no spark there. But you don't have to worry; I'm not going to cause any trouble for now. Living at Downton has kept me away from many ballrooms for quite some time now."

"Is that why you are going to London next month?" Matthew asked with an inquisitorial look.

"I'm going for business, and you know it. But I won't apologize if I find myself a _Jane Bennet _of my own!"

Matthew laughed. Of course he liked the character of Jane Bennet. Light hearted, good, and pure. Just like Patrick was. Matthew thought over his time spent at Downton thus far, and a question hit him at once. "What about Cousin Edith?" He blurted out, incapable of keeping the question to himself.

"What about her?" Patrick asked puzzled.

"You know what I'm talking about. You don't have to marry Mary but you could still manage to please Robert. If you like Edith you can tell him and—"

"Wait wait wait! Where is _this_ coming from?"

"Come on! It's pretty clear how close you two are. I thought you shared a deeper connection."

"We are close because we've grown up together! I love her like a younger sister! I admit we have a different relationship than the one I have with Mary, but my affection for Edith is no different than the one I have for Sybil!"

"Oh, that's a pity. I believe Edith feels a great deal more than that about you."

Patrick blushed. Apparently he had been oblivious. "If that's the case, I'm sorry, but I simply can't return her feelings. If love, _romantic love_, was what I feel for her, I'm sure I would know." Matthew couldn't help nodding. "Speaking of Edith and Sybil and _Mary_..." Patrick then said, changing his tone, "You haven't been up to the Abbey for quite some time now!"

"I know!" Matthew sighed, thinking of all the months that have passed since he had moved to Downton Village. There had been a few dinners at the Abbey, but that was about it. He was starting to feel a little guilty about it. "You know my work has been crazy … And adjusting, in general... But I promise I'm going to make it up to them."

"You must, Sybil is quite mad." He chuckled. "Come for tea on Saturday and we'll think of something."

"Sounds like a good plan."

* * *

Mary sighed heavily when her maid Anna pulled the strings of her corset one last time. Strangely enough, that morning her sisters still hadn't come to bug her before tea as they always would. That meant she could talk to Anna alone, with no one else to comment. She loved her young maid and felt as though she could tell her everything. She knew she could have confided in one of her sisters (Sybil at least), but there was something about Anna – maybe the fact that they were the same age, or that she was just such a good and loyal person – that even made someone as reserved as Mary open up.

"How long do you think we have until my mother comes in and starts with her daily praise of Patrick?" Mary joked and Anna laughed. The maid knew better than anyone how hard Lady Grantham was trying to convince Lady Mary of the rightfulness of her engagement.

"Her Ladyship has been nagging you a lot, but you have to admit … You haven't really given Mr. Patrick much credit." Anna said, helping her mistress with the skirt of the dress.

"Oh Anna … First my parents, then Cousin Matthew, and now you." She sighed and noticed Anna's amused look. Mary stared at her in the mirror of her vanity, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

"I'm sorry milady … It's just that I've noticed you have been talking _a lot _about Mr. Matthew lately."

"What? No I haven't!" Mary protested, but her eagerness to respond gave her away. "I'm surprised you would say such a thing, Anna. You know me better than anyone."

"I'm not saying anything, milady. I've just noticed it, that's all."

"What do the maids say about him, downstairs?" Mary asked curiously.

"We're not really allowed to say anything about gentlemen, milady. We are not to consider them as _men_, only superiors."

"Oh, I'm sorry Anna! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't, milady." Anna smiled fondly. "But I suppose that if he were to be discussed, one would say that those blue eyes of his are quite _unmissable_."

As Anna smiled again at her in the mirror, Mary blushed a little. _Good_, she thought. She hadn't been the only one who had noticed _those eyes_. The question of why on earth had she found herself mesmerized by her cousin's blue eyes had been haunting her for days. But it turned out that it was something that any woman would notice - they _were_ _unmissable, _as Anna said. "Whatever!" Mary tried to appear indifferent, more for her benefit than Anna's. "That just goes to show how bored I am!" She changed the subject. "How long do you think it will take them to realize that Patrick and I are just not happening?"

"I don't know milady."

"It's not like we are in the Middle Ages anymore! Plus, marriage aside … I'm simply longing for some company! I think my sanity will suffer if I don't have even a tiny conversation with someone who's not in my immediate family!"

"You are starting to sound a lot like Lady Sybil," Anna pointed out as she starting to pin up Mary's hair.

"Well, the poor darling is right! We missed the London Season last year because we were in mourning, and now we haven't had a visit there in months! Not even Cousin Matthew has paid us a visit lately!" Before Mary could finish the sentence, she saw Anna grinning in the mirror. She had done it again, she had spoken about Cousin Matthew. "Oh, don't mock me!" Mary whined at the maid's laughter. "There are other gentlemen on my mind; I can prove it to you!" She said and opened the drawer of the vanity. There was a stash of letters in the corner. Mary took out a couple of them and showed them to Anna.

"E.N.?"

"Evelyn Napier, son of Viscount Branksome," she explained. "We met in London before the Titanic. He would be an interesting path to pursue, if only my parents would consider it." Mary sighed in resignation.

"Don't be sad, milady. I suppose that if Mr. Patrick doesn't propose to you anytime soon, they will _have to_ consider it."

"I suppose you're right." Mary said finally standing up.

Anna adjusted her dress and hair one last time. "Here you go, milady. You are ready for tea."

Mary glanced at the clock and sighed. "It is still quite early for tea, but since I am ready I don't see why I shouldn't fancy a walk." She smiled and dismissed Anna before grabbing a book and heading out.

As Mary had predicted, Granny, Patrick and her father were still missing, so she took the chance to go read her book on her favourite bench, under the Sycamoretree_._ It was a very sunny Saturday morning, and Mary was enjoying her novel very much, sheltered by the shade of the tree. But the sudden sound of a bell caused her to lift her gaze almost automatically. Approaching faster and faster, she saw Cousin Matthew on a bicycle.

"Hello." He said cheerfully removing his hat. When he reached the tree, he gracefully dismounted his bike.

"Good morning," Mary smiled. "You have been eluding us a lot lately!" She teased.

"I know, I know." He chuckled. "I'm unforgivable. But work has been pretty tight, and I have been helping Mother to rearrange the house. How very middle class of me, yes?"

"Indeed nothing screams middle class quite as much as that bicycle." Mary replied causing him to laugh out loud. "Have you come for tea?"

Matthew nodded. "Patrick invited me a few days ago. I hope I'm not intruding."

"On the contrary. It's nice to have some company for a change."

"Nothing much going on at the Abbey?"

"The latest gossip we have is about the new chauffeur Papa hired."

"I'm sure many would find that interesting," Matthew teased her as she rolled her eyes. "So what is it about this new chauffeur?"

"Papa thought it was funny to hire a "revolutionary" chauffeur. Apparently he's from Ireland and loves to read Marx and Engels." Mary said as they were almost reaching the main entrance of the house.

"That surprises me. I had no idea Cousin Robert had such a sense of humor."

Mary chuckled. "He has his moments," she joked and saw Carson approaching them.

"Good morning milady, Good morning Mr. Crawley." He greeted them as he attended to Matthew's bicycle.

When they arrived in the drawing room, it was already full. Matthew and Mary seemed to be the only ones missing.

"There you are, darling! I've been looking for you!" Cora cried, as Violet shot an inquisitive look in her direction.

"I was reading outside," Mary explained, "and saw Cousin Matthew coming up." She smiled nervously and watched everyone in the room greeting him.

"I invited Matthew," Patrick intervened. "I hope you don't mind," he said as everyone seated themselves.

"Not at all," assured Robert, and William started to serve the tea.

"It took you long enough to come, Cousin Matthew!" Sybil cried.

"I told you that she'd be mad!" Patrick grinned as Matthew chuckled.

"As I have already told Cousin Mary, I have no excuses. I can only beg your forgiveness." He joked, and Patrick came to his rescue.

"But that is why Matthew is here today," he said smiling. "We wanted to arrange something. Robert, do you think we could go on a picnic unchaperoned, just the five of us?" he asked.

"What a brilliant idea, Patrick!" Edith squealed excited as Mary rolled her eyes at her reaction.

"Please Papa, say yes!" Sybil added.

"I don't think it should be a problem. Almost all of you are adults. And I trust your judgement." Robert voiced, looking at Matthew and Patrick directly.

"I don't see what the problem would be either," Violet said quietly, "It's not like any of you is _engaged_." She concluded in her sharp voice.

Sybil and Mary were about to crack up, but Cora promptly saved the day. "It's a lovely idea, Patrick. I'll inform Mrs. Patmore so she can prepare the baskets."

The rest of the morning served only to remind Matthew how much he had missed seeing his cousins over the previous months. When he arrived back home to Crawley House with a smile on his face, he could only look forward to the picnic which awaited them on the following day.

* * *

On the day of the picnic, all of the cousins saw each other in church. After the service they were supposed to go to Downton Abbey and then leave from there. Isobel was invited to luncheon at the big house, and smiled broadly as she saw her son off in front of the big entrance.

The five cousins were all incredibly excited. Some were showing their enthusiasm more openly, such as Sybil and Patrick, while Mary tried to play it cool (but surely couldn't lie to her own self). For this special occasion the girls were riding in the carriage along with the heavy baskets, while the gentlemen were leading the way on the back of two of the finest purebreds.

When they had reached a particular hill which pleased them all equally (and which, apparently, was full of childhood memories), the girls stopped the carriage and the boys dismounted their horses. They all worked together to set up their luncheon on a cloth laid on the grass, and as soon as they had placated their hungry stomachs, they simply decided to relax and enjoy the beautiful day. Matthew and Mary had successfully claimed the spots under the shade of a tree, while Patrick had purposely decided to lie under the sun. Edith kept teasing Patrick for taking in too much sun and repeatedly offered him her white umbrella. Matthew was reading a novel in silence, or at least he was _trying _to. The task had proved quite difficult, because whenever he reached the top of the next page, he found himself glancing over the book at Sybil who was putting flower all over Mary's hair. Matthew couldn't help noticing how Mary's soft brown hair filled with those violets made such a beautiful contrast to her alabaster skin. She looked so lovely, _too lovely_ in fact. She needed to stop being so lovely or else Matthew would have to re-start the chapter. He already realized that he couldn't comprehend a single word that he was reading.

"Look at what I have here!" Patrick cried triumphantly while he opened one of the baskets. He took out four or five butterfly nets. "Mary, do you remember?"

"Oh!" Sybil gasped excited. "I do!"

Mary looked at her sister's face and smiled. "I remember," she told Patrick. "We used to put Sybil on our shoulders to help her catch the butterflies."

"Fun days, huh?" Patrick replied with the same smile. "I thought we could do that again, in honour of those memories!"

"Sounds fun!" Sybil cried and Edith agreed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mary chuckled, "I cherish those memories too, but there's a reason why they belong in the past."

"You being a spoil sport won't stop us!" Patrick cried. "Matthew, you in?"

It was Matthew's time to chuckle. "I think I'm going to have to pass." As much as he loved Patrick, he just couldn't see himself catching butterflies at his age.

When they were far enough away, Mary waited for Matthew to raise his gaze and with a complicit look, they burst out laughing. "I love Patrick dearly but he's such a ..."

"He's a _softie_." Matthew completed her sentence still laughing hard.

"And you people expect me to put up with that!" Mary joked, even though there was some truth in her words.

"Poor chap, he's so overwhelmed by all of his new obligations! He's even started reading–" Matthew was laughing so heartedly that he almost got carried away. He hoped Mary hadn't noticed.

"What?" She asked once her breathing was finally returning to normal. "What is he reading?" She reprised, when Matthew had looked at her puzzled.

"I shouldn't have spilled that. I'm sorry, but I'm sworn to secrecy," he explained.

"Oh, come on!" Mary protested.

"You won't expect me to give up my own cousin, will you?" Mary didn't answer, instead giving him her most compelling look. "That won't work on me," Matthew warned her with a chuckle, but immediately contradicted himself by bringing his eyes again to his novel. He knew that if he looked into those chocolate eyes once more, he might tell Mary his entire life story.

"Oh _really?_" Mary replied, obviously up for a challenge. "Then maybe this will!" She cried and grabbed his book. Matthew jumped immediately.

"Give it back!" He exclaimed half annoyed, half amused.

"Not until you tell me about Patrick's secret reading!" Mary said, incredibly amused. Matthew came closer to her and tried to grab the book. She only pulled it farther away. "Ah, ah, ah! Come on, Cousin Matthew, that's not very gentleman-like!" She said as she waved the book in front of him then pulling it back again.

"_That _is not very lady-like!" He protested and came a lot closer. After successfully grabbing the book, Matthew lost his balance and ended up falling, face and torso, over Mary. She lost her balance consequently, and ended up completely flat on the grass on her back. They didn't realize it at first, but when they opened their eyes they found themselves separated by just a few inches. Neither said anything at first, but the expression on their faces and their heavy breathing spoke for them. Yet neither of them seemed to be able to move. Matthew looked down at Mary's perfectly shaped face and her full lips. They were so close that they were breathing the same air. He could feel her heart beating as fast as his. He was in a sort of trance, unable to move, to make himself break from the feeling of her body against his chest, from the sweet smell emanating from her skin and hair.

Luckily for him, Mary found the strength to speak. Her lips curved into a perfect smile and whispered, "What is it?"

"What?" Matthew panted, almost out of breath.

"What is Patrick reading?"

"Pride and Prejudice," He gave away, almost without thinking. It was only when - from her lips - he started to hear the most enchanting laugh he had ever heard, that they were finally able to break apart. The awkwardness from moments before had instantly been replaced by unstoppable laughter. Matthew felt a little badly that he had had to give Patrick away in order to save his own skin. As much as he had enjoyed being so close to Mary, he knew that was a recipe for disaster.

"Pride and Prejudice," she repeated amused.

"Don't tell me it is too soft for you," he teased.

"Oh no, I like it. But I'm entitled to; I'm a girl!" That statement was followed by some more laughter.

"You should have seen him," Matthew continued, "Whining about how proud Mr. Darcy is!"

"I think Mr. Darcy had every right to be proud. Elizabeth on the other hand spends more than half of the book whining and judging everyone."

"Why am I not surprised that you think that?" He replied quite amused, as they saw their company returning to the base. Matthew looked at Mary carefully. "Promise you won't say anything," he begged her.

Mary chuckled and looked at her sisters and her cousin coming towards them. Then she turned her gaze to Matthew again and whispered with a smirk, "It will be our dirty little secret."

With her messy hair filled with flowers, that bright smile, and those words coming from her lips, Matthew thought that he had never seen anyone quite as sensual as Mary.

* * *

When Matthew woke up each day of the following week panting and sweating, he wasn't so surprised anymore. He knew he had been dreaming about Cousin Mary. He felt so silly. He couldn't believe he was experiencing an obsessive crush just like a hormonal teenager would. But the situation felt hopeless, so Matthew developed a daily routine which involved an ice cold bath every morning to help him step out of his hot and sweaty half-dreaming state. By the time he arrived to Ripon, work would absorb him so completely that he could breathe normally for a few hours. But just as the train brought him back to Downton, Mary's smile, her voice, her eyes, her smell would haunt him until the day after. That is why when a letter arrived in the middle of the week asking them back to the Abbey for lunch on Sunday, Matthew sincerely hoped that by the end of the week, his state of being would have improved.

When Sunday came the first and greatest test was walking from the church to Downton Abbey. Matthew was absolutely frightened by the possibility that Mary would grace him with her delightful company. He wanted to be sure that he had his act together before their whole family would see them interact with one another. The past week had only proven to him that he wasn't in charge of his emotions at all where Cousin Mary was concerned, and for that reason he needed to keep his distance from her. He decided to walk with Patrick and Robert and started to talk very energetically about the cottages and the farmers. He knew such topics didn't please Patrick at all, but Matthew's goal was to keep his girl cousins away. At luncheon Matthew was so completely lost in his thoughts that it was as though he weren't even present. He would speak only if spoken to, and he never _ever _dared to let his eyes wander in Mary's direction.

When the lunch was over and after a sip of brandy in the library, Robert decided to go for a walk behind the house with Pharaoh and invited Matthew and Patrick to join. The ladies were chatting in the drawing room. Matthew was endlessly grateful to Robert for that decision. Now the only thing he had to do, while waiting for his mother to become ready to leave, was to entertain himself with some small talk on the walk. But since Patrick never enjoyed himself if an activity wasn't exciting enough, the quiet walk in the gardens had become an intense session of the game Fetch. Patrick had the poor dog running miles and miles after his precious toy, entertaining both himself and Robert. So after the tenth fetch, which hadn't seem to tire neither Patrick nor Pharaoh at all, Matthew decided to step back and watch them from a distance while he thought.

He needed to get a grip on himself. He had made the decision to come live in Downton Village, and now he had to suffer the consequences. He had a good life in the small locale. Work was fulfilling and he enjoyed the company of his cousins. His mother was happy. He needed to think about all of that, and realize that as a grown man, he needed to put a stop to his childish obsession. Ignoring Mary wasn't going to solve anything. He needed to learn how to feel comfortable in her presence, starting to try in small doses, and hopefully things would improve from there. Surely her womanly virtues won't become invisible to him overnight. But surely if he would spend more time with her, he would come to realize just how different their personalities were and that nothing, besides a physical attraction, would join them together romantically. Yes, this was the right choice to make. Besides, spending more time with Mary would make it crystal clear to Matthew just how much she _didn't_ care for him in that way. He knew that she didn't think of him as a _man;_ he knew he shouldn't think of her as a _woman_ either. They were cousins, full stop. Realizing that, realizing her simply platonic feelings towards him, might prove to be painful at first, but Matthew knew, deep down, that the disappointment would be all that he needed. The painful smack which would bring him back to reality.

"You have been quite the loner today," Matthew heard from behind his back, and for a moment he asked himself if he was dreaming.

"Forgive me Cousin Mary," he said in acknowledging her presence. He turned around and noticed that the women had come out for a walk as well. Edith had reached her father and Patrick, Sybil was having a very animated conversation with Matthew's mother, and Cora and Violet were simply talking to each other while glaring at the lot of them. Alternatively Mary had decided to exchange a few words with Matthew. He took a deep breath; this was going to be harder then he thought. "Work has been– "

"Work has been hell, and you are tired," she interrupted him. "Yes, I imagine." She teased him with a smile. "And it is probably time that you start calling me Mary," she added.

Matthew swallowed nervously without meeting her eyes. "Only if you call me Matthew."

An awkward silence followed for a few moments until Mary decided to speak. "Matthew, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Cous—_Mary. _"

Mary chuckled but then became very serious. "Do you think of me as Mr. Darcy?" Matthew turned for a moment, looking puzzled. "Snob, proud, cold, and distant?"

"That is an unfair question," Matthew simply said.

"Why?"

"Because you already know that I don't think that of you. I _could never_ think that of you," He admitted openly, hoping he hadn't given too much of himself away. Mary fell silent as well, but a tiny smile appeared on her rosy lips. Matthew stared at her absent-minded expression and glanced at Cora and Violet in the distance, who were looking in their direction. He couldn't help asking, "I want to ask you something too, Mary," he began, and her nod told him to continue. "From what I've come to know about you, I understand that you _hate _to do what your parents tell you to do. And you _love_ to make them mad, as much as propriety allows you to." Mary chuckled at that last sentence. "Forgive me, but – I just can't help but wonder if — if spending time with me is one of those ploys to unnerve them." He knew thatwas an unfair question as well, but as his mouth had opened, he simply hadn't been able to stop himself.

Mary, on the other end, instead of looking annoyed or hurt by that question, simply lifted her head and smiled gracefully. "Oh Matthew, you said it yourself once. _I don't think anyone should be alarmed to see the first daughter of the Earl of Grantham entertaining herself with her poor middle-class cousin, am I right?_"

* * *

Not too far away from them, Lady Grantham and her mother-in-law were observing everything and everyone in the distance.

"It's sad to admit it," Cora began. "But I don't think that Mary and Patrick are going to be a match after all." Violet snorted quite noisily. "It's been a year now, and he still hasn't asked her properly."

"Some might say he's waiting for an appropriate way out," Violet commented in her sharp tone.

"I'm beginning to think we should start to ask some other gentlemen over. Perhaps it's time."

"And what made you change your mind so suddenly?"

"The Duke of_Crowborough wrote to me and asked if he could come and stay for a few days."_

"The old and married Duke ofCrowborough?"

"No, his now-fatherless son."

"Oh, I see. Certainly this is not an opportunity we would want to miss."

"She has been asking to see other gentlemen for a while now. I don't see how sticking with Patrick for much longer is going to improve her prospects."

"I rather agree."

"I just hope she won't make a fool of herself. We both know how Mary can easily get carried away when she wants something."

"Oh dear, I think you have bigger problems to deal with right now," Violet stated quite cryptically.

"What do you mean?" But Violet didn't answer. Instead, she just looked in Mary and Matthew's direction.

"Oh …" Cora sighed, analysing her daughter's smile at Cousin Matthew. "But Mama! You've heard Mary! Cousin Matthew is a simple lawyer, I don't think Mary has any intentions—"

"I'm not saying she has. Or that he has, for that matter. But I have a feeling that if we don't stop this now, someone is going to get hurt."

Cora let out a deep sigh. "I should have known. I know better than anyone what golden locks and Crawley blue eyes can do to a girl. The first time we met Matthew I couldn't help thinking how much he looks like Robert when he was young."

"But he's not Robert, is he?" Violet replied sharply. "Don't get me wrong, Matthew's a nice fellow but apart from his handsome face, he has absolutely nothing to offer our Mary."

"What can we do, then?"

"Your daughter is bored, Cora. It's time we distract her with something much more shiny."

**A/N:**_ Alright, hope you like the developments! Poor Matthew, he thinks that if he can get used to being around Mary, his feelings with cease to exist, as if! What will happen with the Duke, now? And poor Patrick, he's a mess! He does need a Jane Bennett, does he?_

_But before leaving you, I want to warn you a little … We are in a very fluffy, happy state right now, but we all know that as the story progresses and feelings develop on both sides, things are going to get much more complicated. It's inevitable. Maybe not right away in the next chapter, but drama is coming and it would be a great part of the story, keep that in mind!_

_Happy Easter!_


	5. There's just no getting over you

**A/N: **_Hey guys!__ Thank you so much for your reviews! It's so nice to see that you like where this story is going! There's so much more to happen, and I can't wait to show you! But now, here's the first piece of my evil puzzle. Enjoy and please tell me what you think!_

_Kudos to my beta, __**jmu**__!_

_**Chapter Five: There's just no getting over you.**_

_October 1913_

_"__Are you quite sure I shouldn't come with you?" Matthew asked again, staring at Patrick's valet with an amused expression. They were in Patrick's dressing room in Downton Abbey, and Patrick was getting ready for his departure to London._

_"__I've told you already!" Patrick cried, looking at himself in the mirror. "I have everything under control. This time I've worked hard and I actually know what I am going to say to the other investors."_

_"__I know you do." Matthew smiled, feeling a little proud. "But remember, please, stay clear of that Bretton-Field plan. It's a scheme, I can sense it."_

_"__I will, I'm not confident enough to challenge your business sense," Patrick chuckled. "Thank you Molesley; that would be all." He said firmly dismissing his valet. Now that they were alone, Matthew felt much more comfortable teasing him without anyone else to listen to them._

_"__And you are quite certain you are telling me everything?" Matthew asked with a smirk, receiving a puzzled expression from his cousin. "There is no girl waiting for you in London?" He clarified._

_"__Last time I went, I barely left the club. Plus if there's a girl, __any girl__, you know that you'll be the first one to know. I can hardly keep anything to myself." Matthew chuckled at the last sentence. It was true; Patrick wasn't the best example of guarded. "It's you, on the other hand, that I'm trying to read."_

_"__Me? What is that supposed to mean, Cousin?" Matthew replied alarmed by Patrick's assertion._

_"__It's been a year since you first set foot in Downton. I can't believe there hasn't been any girl who hasn't interested you at all."_

_Matthew laughed nervously. Patrick was much brighter than he seemed. "See that – that just doesn't make any sense. You know that I have set foot in society as much as you." _

_"__Well yes, that is true but – you had never been in society, not before we had met. There must be other ways for you to find a wife. I don't know, maybe … law firm dinners?"_

_"__I suppose you are right. That would be the way to make acquaintances amongst my kind of people. But – I guess I've spent most of this year working and getting to know you and your family better. It has been a transition, that's all." Despite the need to hide his confused feelings for Mary, Matthew was being sincere. He didn't know what Patrick was implying with this discussion. The past year had really been about adjusting to the new unfamiliar setting. And now that Matthew was starting to feel finally __at home__, he realized that his social life (besides the company of his cousins) hadn't changed much. Maybe __that__ was the problem. Maybe Patrick was starting to worry about his solitary behaviour in the same way that Matthew's mother had. Should he have considered that he might actually have a problem?_

_"__I understand that. I'm glad you are finally beginning to feel at home, there is nothing that pleases me more. But sometimes you do give the impression that you have no interest in actually starting a __life__, in finding a wife. Don't you want that? Do you not wish to become a husband, a father, in the future?"_

_Matthew was taken aback by all of those questions at once. But what tormented him the most about them was that, truthfully, he had never asked them of himself. "Of course I want to be a husband, a father one day." He blurted out, and that much was true. "I guess I've never believed in the concept of 'looking for a wife'. It has always bothered me how some people would choose their life partner just as if they were a common possession. I've always thought that if I am to fall in love with a woman some day, then it will happen … like it is meant to be. Like it is Destiny."_

_"__Well" Patrick cleared his throat. "That is just a rubbish concept."_

_"__You surprise me, Patrick!" Matthew exclaimed, both shocked and hurt. "I thought you were a romantic. Maybe much more of a romantic than I am."_

_"__I am, of course I am! You know I share your vision of the prospect of a happy marriage. But that doesn't mean that I can't be practical."_

_"__I guess they teach you __that __very well from where you come from," Matthew mumbled bitterly._

_"__Matthew, I wasn't trying to be rude. But you have to understand that there's no such thing as destiny. Do you really believe that the woman of your dreams will just magically appear on your way home to Crawley House?" He did have a point. Matthew opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. Patrick faced him directly for the first time and patted his shoulder affectionately. "Nothing really ever happens if you don't give it a little push." Patrick said wisely. "Just promise me you will try. If it scares you, I promise I will be there to support you. Just as you have been supporting me."_

_Matthew pondered those words for a while, then smiled and said "Alright."_

_It didn't take long for Patrick to realize that he was already late for the train. He apologized to Matthew for the rushed goodbye and led the way down the grand staircase where Carson looked impatient._

_"__Branson is waiting for you in the car, sir." Carson said in a sharp tone which underscored Patrick's lateness. _

_"__I know, Carson. I guess I got carried away. Is Molesley ready as well?" Patrick asked as Thomas was helping him with his coat. _

_"__Yes, sir. As I have said, they're waiting for you."_

_"__Then I'd better not make them wait any longer." Patrick said with a hint of humor in his voice, which Matthew caught._

_"__Would the other Mr. Crawley like me to fetch his __bicycle__?" Carson asked while William was handing Matthew his coat._

_"__Yes Carson. I would really appreciate that. Thank you." Matthew said politely and walked Patrick to the car._

_As the car slowly began to drive away from the house and one of the footmen had brought him his bike, Matthew started to think. He thought and cycled. The more he did, the louder Patrick's words echoed in his head '__Do you really believe that the woman of your dreams will just magically appear on your way home to Crawley House?__' Did Matthew really believe it was that easy? Was he really that naïve? _

_"__Matthew!" He heard all of a sudden and was so startled to the point of almost falling off his bike. For the first time he actually looked up in front of him, pushing his thoughts away._

_"__Good God Mary, you made me jump!" He panted, stopping the vehicle to stand on his feet. Mary appearing at that exact moment had to be the sickest joke ever._

_"__I'm sorry; I had no idea you were so lost in your thoughts." She smiled graciously and Matthew realized that she was sitting on the bench under the familiar Sycamore tree._

_"__This must be your favourite hiding place," Matthew pointed out._

_"__Quite right." She said putting her novel aside. "I assume you were here to see Patrick off."_

_"__Exactly. Just making sure he had everything under control for his investors' meeting."_

_Mary listened to his words carefully, but didn't seem that much interested in Patrick's affairs. "I do hope," she began hesitantly, "that you will consider coming by the house even if Patrick isn't to be present."_

_"__Well of course! I would love to come by if you want me."_

_"__Of course I want you." Mary breathed without even balancing the depth of her words. "Very much," she concluded in the same hushed voice._

_Oh dear, sweet Mary__, Matthew thought. How could she possibly know what those words spoken by her enchantingly rosy lips were doing to him? She looked so angelic there, with her pale skin and her caring expression. She had no idea of the fire her graceful figure inspired inside of him. She __wanted __him. That was what she had said. Matthew had to work very hard to stop himself from nervously laughing. She did not realize that such words coming from her sounded like a sick little joke in Matthew's mind. A joke, yes, because he really did __want her__. He wanted her in so many ways. But he had to be strong. He had made a promise to himself, and he had to be strong and learn to manage around her. But how was he supposed to know that she was going to say __those words__? The very same words she had said to him in his dreams, although the circumstances were very different. How was she supposed to know the effect those words would have on him? He breathed heavily in and out, feeling his arousal growing in his pants. In that moment he was only grateful that he had his coat on to cover his shame. He had to be strong and his weakness in that very moment disgusted him._

_"__Then I shall come to you whenever you ask," he whispered, measuring his breathing carefully. "Good afternoon, Mary." Matthew said then, and after having doffed his hat for a moment, he mounted the bike's seat again and nervously cycled to Crawley House._

_"__Cousin Matthew has been here quite often lately," Mary heard a familiar voice saying. It was her mother with a hopeful look on her face. She rarely bothered to come all the way to the Sycamore tree to talk with her, so Mary smelled trouble all._

_"__He was here to see Patrick off." She immediately replied, making sure she sounded annoyed enough._

_"__I meant that you all have become really close to him, it seems."_

_"__What have I done wrong this time, Mama?" Mary decided to cut her short. "Am I only allowed to spend time with the cousin that I am supposed to marry? Did it ever occur to you that, maybe, we've become so close to Matthew because we haven't had the chance to meet other gentlemen?"_

_"__Darling, I understand..."_

_"__No, you don't understand! I don't know why you and Papa are still fixed on this fantasy that Patrick and I should marry, because it is pretty evident that we never will. But you must know that if you intend to keep other gentlemen from coming here, I probably will never marry at all."_

_"__You are right."_

_Mary was so mad that for a moment she hadn't even heard her mother's words. She was so ready to reply when she actually realized what Cora had just said. "I am?" She asked in disbelief._

_"__Yes." Cora whispered and took a seat beside her daughter. "I'm not going to lie and tell you that I'm not a little sad that things turned out this way. It breaks my heart to see you giving Downton Abbey away, even to our dear Patrick."_

_"__It breaks my heart too." Mary admitted._

_"__But Patrick is just as responsible, and I've decided that it is time to move on." The last sentence particularly captured Mary's attention. "I've received a letter from the Duke of __Crowborough." Cora paused for a moment, making sure that Mary was listening. "I invited him to stay at Downton Abbey tomorrow. He has asked of you, Mary. He might be the Duke you've been fantasising about."_

_It was a lot to take in. A few moments earlier, Mary had thought her mother had come to scold her about her time spent with Matthew. But now she was telling her that they had actually listened to her for once. They had released her from the obligation to marry Patrick. Mary was excited and frightened at the same time. Her ambition and her sense of self-worth were in overdrive at the mention of a Duke coming to Downton to court her, but it was not the possibility of failure that scared her. In the past months she had started to notice some things about herself that had begun to alarm her. It all started on the day that Anna had pointed out Mary's frequent mentioning of Matthew. Mary knew there was absolutely no malice in her maid's words, but from that day on she couldn't help noticing how much the thought of Matthew occupied her mind. She had noticed how her heart would start beating faster whenever his name was mentioned, how the thought of seeing him would cheer her up immediately. She had never heard herself laugh in quite the same way as she did when in his company, and no pair of eyes on her had ever caused her to blush so fiercely. Mary had realized what the company of a country solicitor was doing to her, and she was terrified. The most sensible thing in her case would have been to keep her distance, to let her senses cool down. Yet she couldn't bring herself to do that. In the most boring year of her life in the countryside, she had found herself looking forward to his company. She had thought that she would have gone mad without it. The excuse she had managed to create in her head to justify her senseless behaviour was that - of course - her need to be near Cousin Matthew was only due to the lack of other gentlemen in her life. Yes, that was the reason. Those piercing blue eyes, the golden locks and the charming smile had absolutely nothing to do with it__.____No, it would be improper to be romantically interested in her simple middle-class cousin. But now everything was about to change, everything was going to be put to a test. She had to pop the bubble in which she had placed herself and Matthew, and face the real world out there. She couldn't let the fear plague her too much. She had to believe that the company of a charming Duke would detoxify her completely. She was going to have the chance to enter society in one of the highest positions of honour and class. She might become a Duchess. What more could she possibly wish for?_

_The following day Matthew had closed his office in Ripon earlier than usual. The last two clients of the day had cancelled their appointments and Matthew had decided to give the rest of the afternoon off to his assistant and himself. When he thought again about the previous day, he felt completely stupid. He couldn't keep feeling so ashamed and disgusted by his sexual desires; the more he did, the more they would have power over him. He had thought he was behaving like a mature man, but he was obviously not. There was no point in feeling ashamed of his feelings; he just needed to learn how to control them. But the thought that haunted him the most was that, because of his shame and self-loathing, he had left Mary so abruptly the day before. But she had asked him to call on them even with Patrick absent, and he had to keep faith to that promise now. _

_Now that he was closing the office earlier, he thought that he could use the spare time to call on his cousins for tea. He would go home, change clothes and buy some chocolates in the village shop for his cousins as an excuse to pay a visit. He was going to be smart this time: he would spend time with all of his cousins at the same time. This way he would fulfil Mary's wishes and control his own. But when he arrived to Crawley House that afternoon, he found his mother waiting for him._

_"__I hope you are not too tired." She had said after her affectionate greeting._

_"__I'm not," Matthew had smiled. "May I ask why is that concerning you?"_

_"__We have just received an invitation from Cousin Cora to dine with them tonight."_

_"__Oh, splendid. I was actually about to call on them for tea. I guess I'll wait until dinner time, then."_

_"__It's not a simple family dinner, I'm afraid. They have a Duke staying over at the Abbey."_

_"__A Duke?" Matthew repeated amused. "Then why would they ever want their middle-class relations to dine at the same table as a Duke?"_

_"__Cousin Cora wrote something about needing some male company now that Patrick is in London." Matthew listened carefully, but couldn't help feeling a little bit confused. Why would they need some extra male company? Wasn't Lord Grantham enough for an old pompous Duke?_

_He decided not to dwell too much on it and said, "In that case I think I will make that early call on them as planned. I don't think there will be much time to spend with my cousins tonight if they'll have to take care of a Duke."_

_"__But they said they're going to send the car over at half past seven."_

_"__It's okay Mother, I'll walk. We'll see each other tonight"._

_As soon as Matthew had finished his sentence, he walked straight up to his dressing room and changed for dinner. He wished Mrs. Bird and the maid a pleasant evening and went into the village to buy those chocolates as he had planned. He wasn't sure which types his cousins might prefer, so he bought a little bit of everything. He was incredibly nervous, but he was determined to go through with his visit to show himself that he could do it. As the imposing feature of the Abbey started to appear in his horizon, his pace began to speed up and his breathing became more irregular. Carson was incredibly surprised to find him at the door, and Matthew had to explain the reason for his early visit. When he was announced in the drawing room, he was surprised to find only Lady Grantham, the Dowager Countess, Sybil and Edith._

_"__Oh Matthew, dear. What a pleasure to see you." Cora greeted him. "If you're here to see Robert, I'm afraid he's not available at the moment."_

_"__Oh no, Cousin Cora," he assured her with a smile, "I closed the office quite early today and I decided to pay a visit to my cousins. Here, I've brought you some chocolates!" He said, handing them the pretty box. Matthew chuckled at Sybil's pleased expression._

_"__That's very nice of you, please sit down with us."_

_"__So..." He said, once he had seated himself on the sofa next to Sybil. He reminded himself not to ask about Mary right away. "Is Cousin Robert entertaining the Duke, right now?" He asked politely to keep his mind off of Mary._

_"__No, Papa is down by the cottages." Sybil informed him._

_"__Mary__ is entertaining the duke." Violet specified in her sharp voice. Matthew was more and more puzzled, but he hoped his feelings wouldn't show in his expression._

_"__Granny and Mama are already planning the wedding," Edith pointed out with the exact intention of getting a reaction from him. Matthew had to hold himself still. __Planning the wedding?__ Had he been somehow transported to an alternate dimension like in those strange, futuristic novels?_

_Sybil fortunately had caught the strange twitch in Matthew's eye and decided to come to his rescue. "Mama has released Mary from the obligation to marry Patrick. The Duke of __Crowborough is a young bachelor. Mary is showing him the house right now."_

_Matthew mentally thanked Sybil for filling him in with the news. At first it seemed to have affected his breathing and twisted his gut. But when he had promptly reminded himself of the whole reason for his visit, he wondered if __this __wasn't a blessing after all. Seeing Mary entertaining another gentleman would have surely helped him forget the fantasy he had been building in his head. That was the answer to all of his problems: Mary married, and to a Duke, to say the least, would have surely helped him move on. It was good news, __splendid news__, wasn't it? But as much as he would have loved to think and brood over it for at least a couple of hours, Matthew knew his chatty company were dying for his reaction. He could read the anticipation all over their faces. _

_"__How marvelous." He said, clearing his throat. "First I find out that I'm related to an Earl, and now possibly to a Duchess. It's a strange world, for sure." He managed to say._

_"__But a marvellous one, indeed." Violet intervened. "We wouldn't want anyone to interfere with the Duke and our Mary before he asks her, would we?"_

_"__Of course not." Matthew replied, taking up his older cousin's challenge._

_"__Forgive the intrusion, Milady." Carson interrupted them, appearing in the drawing room. _

_"__Don't worry, Carson. What is it?" Cora asked kindly._

_"__I thought it might interest you to know that Lady Mary and His Grace, the Duke of __Crowborough have concluded the tour of the House. His Grace has gone upstairs to his room and Lady Mary has gone outside for a walk."_

_"__Thank you, Carson. It was very considerate of you to tell us."_

"Of course, Milady." Carson said, leaving the room.

The awkward tea continued for a little while, and Matthew couldn't help thinking about Mary and where she might have gone. Was he the only one who interpreted Carson's news as strange? In his mind, if a young lady had spent the afternoon being courted by a Duke, the first thing she would want to do after parting ways with her suitor would be to rush to tell her mother and sister all about it. Instead Mary had gone outside, and still was nowhere to be seen. Matthew kept quiet, but mentally thanked Sybil when she suggested going outside as well, and maybe looking for Mary then. In the end, even Cousin Cora and Cousin Violet decided to go out for a breath of fresh air, and that told Matthew that if Mary was there to be seen, he'd better stay where he was and let her approach her mother and grandmother. He was more than aware that the eyes of the Dowager Countess were following his every move. But it was fine, as long as he could get a glimpse of Mary, as long as he knew that she was okay, then everything would be alright. When they reached the garden outside of the library's door, Sybil and Edith instantly decided to go for a walk themselves, while Matthew stood still, not too far from his older cousins, trying to get a glimpse of the bench under the Sycamore tree. Mary wasn't there and Matthew didn't know why. That had him all the more worried. If she wasn't sitting on her usual bench, it meant that not only that she was hiding, but also that she didn't want to be found.

The right opportunity, though, came a little while later when Robert's white Labrador came trotting towards him. As soon as Matthew started to play with and cuddle Pharaoh, Lady Violet seemed to be losing interest in staring at him. But the interesting part was when Pharaoh started to bark in Matthew's direction, as though he was trying to tell him something. "What is it, big boy?" Matthew asked stroking his fur energetically. The gesture seemed to please the dog, but it didn't make him quit his barking until Matthew moved a few step in his direction. As soon as Pharaoh saw Matthew walking he barked one more time, approvingly, and started to run to the left side of the house, occasionally turning around to see if Matthew was keeping up with him. Realizing that the dog wanted him to follow, Matthew gave up any chance to spot Mary and decided to see what Pharaoh wanted him to see. The cheerful dog had him walk for almost a mile, reaching finally a white temple he had never been to. Matthew stopped for a second to catch his breath, but realized the dog wasn't satisfied yet. Pharaoh barked again and disappeared behind the temple. Matthew was now beginning to regret his decision to chase after a hyperactive dog. He snorted and walked reluctantly to see what kind of trophy the cheerful beast was going to show him. But then he heard a voice.

"I told you to leave me alone, you stupid dog!" Mary complained through her sobs. Matthew went around the corner and finally saw her sitting on the base of the temple, drying her tears and trying to chase Pharaoh away. The brilliant dog sensed that Matthew had finally reached them and barked again to get his attention. "Shut up!" she protested.

"Mary?" Matthew called, causing her to jump.

Mary stood up immediately and tried her best to wipe away her tears. "Matthew. I—I am sorry I didn't see you coming."

"It's okay," Matthew whispered approaching her slowly. "Mary, are you alright?"

"It's nothing, really. I'm just being silly."

"It doesn't look like nothing." He continued and took a seat beside her. "Please Mary, if—if he did anything to upset you, if he _hurt_ you – you have to tell me."

"Oh no – no!" Mary replied abruptly. "Nothing like that! He did n— _My God_ no! It was nothing like that. It was something stupid, nothing that you need to worry about."

"I'm sorry, but you don't strike me as a person who cries over silly things."

Mary smiled sincerely at Matthew. For a moment she forgot about Downton, about being Lady Mary, about the Duke inside of her house. For a moment she allowed herself to simply get lost in the deep blue of Matthew's eyes. The light of the sunset seemed to make them shine even more. His face was so beautiful; the lines of his bone structure were so gentle. The Duke was not so beautiful; he had not chased after her to see if she was alright. Mary honestly had no idea of what was happening to her. It was not supposed to go like this. The Duke was supposed to wipe away any trace of Matthew from her mind, but he hadn't. It was wrong, so terribly wrong.

But after those few blissful seconds of desperation, Mary was forced to return to reality. Matthew had asked her a question and she had to answer. She realized it was pointless to lie, so she told him everything. About the Duke's sketchiness in general, and their visit to the servants' floor.

"I feel so silly, I mean – he was right … they're servants, I shouldn't feel guilty about going into their rooms, which belong to my father after all …"

"No, he wasn't right. It doesn't matter if they work for you or if they're at the bottom of the social scale. They're people just like you and me, and they deserve their privacy. Being a Duke, or even a King, doesn't make a man better than anybody else. It just makes him luckier."

"You should tell that to Granny," Mary replied to lighten the mood. Matthew's smile told her that she had succeeded.

"I'm sure that she would heatedly disagree, but your grandmother is not a fool. She respects her employees even though she might not show it," he said, putting a hand on Mary's shoulder. "So stop feeling silly, because you're not. If the Duke doesn't see how special you are, it's his loss."

"Why do you care so much?" Mary asked all of a sudden "About me, about Patrick – about our futures?"

"I am your cousin, Mary. I think I am entitled to watch over you." _And I think I'm falling hopelessly in love with you._

Mary and Matthew agreed to return to the house separately. Mary went upstairs to change and Matthew joined Robert in the library, who had just come back. The Duke didn't leave his room until dinner. When the dinner began, it didn't go at all as Cora had hoped. Mary sat in between the Duke and Matthew, but was still so shaken by the afternoon that she couldn't bring herself to address the royal guest directly. She wasn't exactly acting like a charming hostess who was hoping to receive a marriage proposal at the end of the day.

Despite the disappointing situation, the dinner didn't go too badly and, luckily, Robert, Matthew and Isobel kept the conversation going. Everything was tolerable until Edith decided to ask a snarky little question.

"What were you and Mary doing in the attics this afternoon?" She asked stupidly of the Duke. Mary became as white as a sheet.

"I suppose Mary was just showing the Duke the house, weren't you?" Sybil decided to mediate.

"The attics?" Robert asked, puzzled and concerned.

"Yes," Edith pointed out amused. "Mary took the Duke up to the attics."

"Whatever for?" Robert exclaimed, raising his voice.

"Edith-" Matthew called all of a sudden.

"Yes?"

"Patrick tells me that you are as passionate about church architecture as I am."

"Did he really say that?" Edith asked, thrilled, completely forgetting about her mission to humiliate Mary.

"Yes, of course he did. We were thinking you might show us some churches one Saturday."

"It—it sounds like a marvelous plan!" Edith replied and focused happily back on her dinner.

Mary turned her head in Matthew's direction and while the others weren't watching, she mouthed 'thank you' and received a sincere smile in return.

The rest of the evening went quite smoothly, and just as Matthew had predicted, the Duke didn't want any time alone with Robert when the ladies had left the dining room. Robert didn't know whether to be relieved not to have the odious man in the family, or be angry that he had bothered them for nothing. When the three men stepped back into the drawing room, Robert shook his head at his disappointed wife. Cora was frustrated and unnerved not only about the outcome of the dinner, but also because the company of Cousin Matthew proved to be very popular with both her husband and her daughter. Inviting Matthew hadn't been a good idea at all, and Cora felt confirmation of this when the Duke decided to retire early. He politely dismissed himself, citing a strong headache.

"Would you please tell that footman – hmmm—"

"Thomas, Your Grace." Carson promptly answered.

"Yes – Thomas – can you tell him that I am ready to retire?"

"Of course Your Grace."

The Duke wished Carson a good night and walked up the grand staircase to the room he had been set in. He waited for a little while and finally Thomas appeared at his door.

"So, how did it go?" The footman asked, closing the door behind him. "Did you ask Lord Grantham?"

"Hmmm… I don't know, Thomas. I'm not so convinced." The Duke sighed, relaxing gracefully on the queen-size bed.

"What is there to be convinced of? Mary's a pretty girl, the first daughter of the Earl of Grantham. You said you need a wife, preferably with a good name in society, to put those unflattering rumours of _indiscretions _to rest."

"I know what I told you, believe me." The Duke said, as Thomas removed his shoes. "But I think that to make this thing a tiny bit believable, the wife in question should look at least _interested_."

"Why? Do you mean she's not interested in you? That is very strange, indeed."

"Let's just say that I thought Lady Mary had intended to marry her heir cousin, but it seems as though she's much more interested in the other cousin. The middle-class solicitor."

Thomas froze for a moment. "You can't be serious." But the Duke nodded, amused. "So, what now?"

"Well, you know what – I must find a wife."

"But Lady Mary isn't good enough. Is it because of the money?"

"No, not at all. I've put all of my savings in one investment which is bound to be a success. I will be able to properly stand again on my own two feet in a couple of years, if it all goes well."

"So you'll take me on as a valet, as you promised?" Thomas asked quite carefully.

"Did I promise that, really? Thomas, I told you, I don't need a valet."

That was the spark which initiated the argument. Thomas learned that evening that not only was the Duke not going to marry Lady Mary as they intended, but also that he was certainly not someone to be trusted. He had shared so much with this man: his time, his feelings, his secrets and the secrets of his employers... and now the proof of his misplaced trust was being burned to ashes in the centuries-old fireplace, alongside his hurt pride. The only thing that Thomas could do to preserve his self worth was to at least _not_ give in to the Duke's advances. If there was still something that these bloody rich people couldn't get their hands on, it would be his dignity.

The next day the Duke left very early, leaving more than one person hugely disappointed, but surprisingly enough, neither Robert nor Mary were among them. Cora, on the other hand, was borderline furious at her first daughter, and was already considering the notion of preventing their blonde cousin from ever coming near Mary again. She knew, of course, that the idea was inconceivable given the bond that both Patrick and her husband had formed with Matthew over the year. Cora had to admit that she herself had begun to care about Matthew, but she couldn't just let him ruin Mary's life. Hadn't Mary read _Wuthering Heights_? Those kinds of relationships never resulted in anything happy. As Cora thought about the previous night, she almost couldn't believe what she had witnessed. Her proud daughter dismissed a Duke to mingle with a solicitor. It was as though another being had overtaken Mary's body. So, as any proper mother would, Cora couldn't simply let this pass, and she decided to visit Mary privately before tea.

"May I come in?" Cora said, closing the door behind her..

"You've already let yourself in." Mary pointed out while Anna was pinning up her hair.

"I don't think you should be using that tone with me, young lady. Not after last night."

"Mama!"

"No, you listen to me now! You had the chance to become a Duchess, but you gave it all away to flirt with the first pair of blue eyes available!"

Mary turned her head immediately, bearing a furious expression. "I hope you realize that right now you sound as idiotic as Edith."

"No, you are right – I'm sorry," Cora apologized and took a seat beside her daughter. "I didn't mean to insinuate anything, but you have to realize that I'm trying to understand why everything went wrong yesterday! I thought being a Duchess is what you wanted!"

"It is." Mary calmed and lowered her voice. "It is, Mama … There was just something about the Duke's behaviour in the afternoon that didn't put me at ease. I don't quite know how to phrase it. Then, during the evening, he didn't really give me any chance to reprise conversation."

"That is quite true, but … I'm lost, Mary. I thought that it was the right path to take if you really don't want to marry Patrick. We lost this chance; now you have to tell me how we can get another anytime soon."

Mary nodded reluctantly in agreement, but then all of a sudden, a realization hit her. She lifted her gaze again to meet Cora's defeated eyes, but instead turned her head to meet Anna's. The maid smile and nodded; she had thought of the same thing. When Cora realized something wasn't quite right in Mary and Anna's complicity, her daughter took a deep breath and opened the drawer of her vanity. A few moments later Mary placed in her hands numerous envelopes bearing the same elegant handwriting. Each and every letter had been written by the same gentleman, Mr. Evelyn Napier.

**A/N: **_Well well well … so here you can see that I've change some things about the Duke, keep them in mind! Now is the time for other suitors and maybe another surprise! Patrick hasn't been around much in this chapter, but will he notice something changing between his cousins?_

_Looking forward to your feedback now!_

_For information purposes only I wanted to tell that I have another story in mind which will be a lot darker and will probably be rated M. I don't know when I'll finish the first chapter, or if I'll have the gut to publish it. So if you like my writing and you might be interested, keep an eye on my profile!_

_Until the next chapter!_


	6. Hiding Places

**A/N: **_Hello! Here I am with my new chapter. As always my thanks go to all of my reader, reviewer and to my beta __**jmu**__. As for the upcoming chapter, I shan't say much, only that I had promised drama … and here it starts. Will explain myself at the end of the chapter._

**Chapter Six: Hiding Places.**

"_Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me? Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these tricks; but I never had the chance of discovering in that way."_

_Tess of the D'Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy _

_February 1914_

Matthew was sitting on the wooden bench in the waiting room at Downton Village's hospital. He glanced at the round clock on the wall one more time, tapping his foot on the floor anxiously. He sighed and chuckled and mentally thanked his preparedness which had him always keep a novel in his briefcase, just in case. This one in particular, he had borrowed from his mother's collection. It was _Tess of the d'Urbervilles_ and Matthew could've tried to come up with many excuses, but the real reason he had picked this particular book was that he had caught Mary reading it very recently. Following the crucial realization of the depth of his feelings for her, Matthew had been torn between his rational mind and his heart. The former was telling him to run miles and miles away before complicating things even more; the latter was desperate to be near Mary as much as possible. In the past few months, he had found himself needing to know more and more about her. Given the amount of time they had spent together, anyone would have said that they were already fully acquainted, but Matthew's wish was to know her on a much deeper level. He wanted to know what went through her mind, what her deepest thoughts and desires were. That was why he had decided to read the book and would have given anything in that moment to know if Mary thought Angel Clare should have come back from Brazil and forgiven Tess. Was it right to assume redemption and forgiveness were possible in a similar setting? What did Mary think about it? He needed to know.

"Forgive me, Matthew!" Patrick's loud voice startled him, forcing him to break his concentration. He immediately put the novel back in his briefcase. "I'm so late, I know!"

"Don't worry!" Matthew chuckled. "My mother is stuck in the operating room, anyway," he reassured Patrick and gestured for him to sit down. Matthew and Patrick were supposed to pick up Isobel from the hospital that day to go out for lunch together. After that, they were all expected at Downton Abbey for tea. As Patrick took a seat, the door of the doctor's office swung open, but it was not Isobel who emerged. Instead it was a pretty blonde nurse, who closed the door behind her and smiled politely at Matthew.

"I'm afraid it is going to be a little while longer," she informed Matthew with a hopeful look.

"Thank you, Miss Richmond." He smiled and nodded.

"Mr. Crawley, I already told you to call me Lucy!" She said, a little too excited, and Patrick immediately noticed the particular look in the blonde's green eyes.

"Pardon me, Lucy," Matthew smiled, "It's an old habit!" He explained politely, causing her to chuckle. Patrick witnessed, and was excited by, the exchange of lines and looked at Matthew expectantly. When his cousin finally caught his look, Matthew asked, "What is it, Patrick?"

"Are you going to introduce me, or is that an outdated habit too?" He complained, and Lucy laughed and blinked her lashes showily.

Matthew looked rather puzzled, but decided to grant his wish. "Patrick, this is Lucy Richmond, one of the nurses here, and Lucy, this is my cousin Patrick Crawley." Patrick took her hand and shook it gently.

"You hardly need any introduction, Mr. Crawley. Everyone in Downton knows who you are," Lucy explained.

"I'm still getting used to that." Patrick admitted, and then turned his head to Matthew. "Isn't there a Richmond on the List of Associates of your law firm in Ripon?" Patrick asked.

"Yes, you're quite right. Daniel Richmond is one of the Associates. Is there a relation, perhaps?" Matthew asked politely.

Lucy smiled expectantly. "He's my father, actually!"

"Well, look at that!" Patrick cried cheerfully, but Matthew caught something else in his tone. "But how is that the daughter of a solicitor needs to work in a town hospital?"

"Patrick!" Matthew admonished him. It was true that middle-class people were more keen to talk about money than the upper classes were, but still there were simply some questions you just couldn't ask.

"It's quite alright," Lucy reassured Matthew. "My decision to work here has nothing to do with money. I simply found the need to do something besides have tea and make acquaintances. Being a nurse makes me feel as though I have a purpose."

"It's very admirable." Matthew commented, and his words seemed to please Lucy and Patrick both.

"You surely have a lot in common," Patrick commented. "Lucy's father is a solicitor as you are, dear Cousin. Whereas Lucy is a nurse just like your mother."

"Yes." Matthew answered, puzzled. "The world really is smaller than what we paint it to be."

"I suppose," Lucy began hesitantly, "It would be nice to bump into each other outside of the hospital, once in a while…"

Patrick gasped excited, but Matthew said replied, "I suppose it would. Maybe the future festivities in the village will provide the occasion." He was completely clueless, which accounted for Lucy's disappointed expression as she politely dismissed herself and went back into the doctor's office.

Patrick turned his head to Matthew in shock. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?" Matthew responded, annoyed by Patrick's tone.

"Unbelievable! First you flirt openly and use words such as '_admirable_' and then, when the poor girl basically begs you to ask her out, you dismiss her completely!"

"What?!" Matthew repeated and blushed. "Is this what she was trying to do?"

Patrick sighed. "You must be the most naive man on the planet! Of course she was flirting with you! Didn't you catch her smiles and the looks under her lashes?"

This conversation was making Matthew really uncomfortable. He had never been the center of such attention and he was having a hard time believing it. How was he going to ever be able to address the girl again, now that Patrick had made that so completely obvious?

"Even so …" Matthew exclaimed, frustrated. "She's just – I mean – I'm not …" He wasn't exactly sure of how to get his cousin off of his back.

"She's just what? Matthew, can you hear yourself? She's the daughter of a solicitor like you and a nurse like your mother!"

"Patrick, calm down! I simply meant that I don't know her!" He explained, trying to make sense of his cousin's angry reaction.

"But you don't _want_ to know her either, isn't that right?"

"Yes, but that's just because she's not the girl for me." Matthew responded, realizing he didn't sound so convinced himself.

"And you gathered that from just a five-minute conversation."

"I will not pursue a woman because you want me to, Patrick. And I simply cannot understand what is making you so angry."

Patrick just couldn't stay seated anymore. "I brought you to Downton because I wanted you to be near your family, not because I wanted all of this to go to your head!"

"Patrick, I don't understand!"

"Of course you would overlook a simple nurse, now that you have tea with the Countess of Grantham three times a week!" Patrick shouted, but then regretted it almost instantly.

Matthew stood up as well, searching for Patrick's eyes. "That is just absurd." His tone was calm rather than contentious. "You know that I don't care about all of that stuff. That my affection for all of you stems from who you are as people, not from what your Titles might be."

"I know that, but I'm worried that if you keep seeing us and _only_ us, you'll lose your sense of belonging in the world beyond Downton."

"I'm glad you worry about me, but you shouldn't. Still, I don't understand what triggered all of this …"

Patrick stopped his pacing but still didn't face Matthew. "I've noticed something. But I wouldn't really like to say it."

Matthew felt frozen in fear, but his ego just couldn't let this pass. "Now you _must_ say it," he whispered, and only then did Patrick look him in the eye.

"What is going on between you and _Cousin Mary_?" His words were slow and careful.

"What could ever be going on between Mary and me?" Matthew replied, hurt and embarrassed.

Patrick laughed bitterly. "Don't get clever with me; you know that I don't deserve it!"

"I don't see why this concerns you in any way," Matthew said proudly. "I thought you had no interest in marrying Mary!" He was already frustrated enough, he didn't need his dear cousin to add more salt to his wounds.

"Can you hear yourself?" Patrick whispered in shock. "You know I'm not jealous! I'm only worried about you! I can't let you get carried away with this … _fantasy_, because I know all of my cousins. I know they would never allow it, and more importantly, I know that Mary would never consider it. You mustn't get too close. I don't want her to hurt you."

Patrick was going too fast. He was considering things that had never come up in Matthew's mind. He was making everything so _painfully real_. Matthew couldn't stand it, he just couldn't. He wanted Patrick to stop immediately. He didn't want hear any more about Lucy, about Mary, and about Lord and Lady Grantham. That was why he replied so bitterly, "I don't see why you can be so concerned about something that you can't understand."

Patrick looked at Matthew, both angry and hurt. He opened his mouth to say something, anything that would seem clever to his cousin. But he just couldn't find the words. The humiliation had surpassed the anger and he found himself whispering, "That's what it is always about, isn't it? You are the clever one, I am stupid."

"Patrick, you know I didn't mean to—"

"No, you are right. I'm only good when it comes to parties and society. You are the one who understands Cousin Robert when he talks about _revenues_ or _capital stocks _and the rental system of the cottages. It's perfectly understandable that you can't value any of _my_ advice."

"You have to understand, I was angry. I never meant to say such things. You are one of the best people I kn—"

"Please, Matthew." Patrick begged him to stop speaking. "I'll be waiting for you and Cousin Isobel outside."

* * *

Mary descended the grand staircase on that same afternoon. She had just changed after being back from Ripon. Branson had driven her to collect the new frock for the special upcoming night, and she had apparently missed Matthew for tea. When she had just arrived, though, she had found a particularly strange scenario. Cousin Isobel was waiting for Branson to be ready to take her home, whereas Matthew had preferred to walk. Patrick on the other hand, who had been to luncheon with the two of them, had dashed to his bedroom without saying a word.

When Mary had finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the car had already left the house and she sighed at the thought of the missed chance. She exchanged a few words with the butler, Carson, and headed to her father's library to find something to read. When a tome sufficiently inspired her attention, she picked it up and wrote its title and her name in the book register, as was her father's procedure. She glanced at the strangely beautiful day, outside the French windows, and decided to go out and read under her beloved tree.

When she reached the Sycamore, though, she found somebody else sitting on the wooden bench. She smiled and stared a little, wanting to memorize the image in her head. "You stole my hiding my place," she teased, causing those blue eyes to land on her.

"Guilty as charged!" Matthew joked and quickly made room for her to sit beside him.

Mary had promised to herself that she would behave more rationally since the incident with Duke Crowborough. When she looked back at those earlier months, she had realized how stupid she had been. Surely the Duke wasn't the most moral of people, but she had turned away the possibility of becoming a Duchess. A _Duchess_. Where did she go, that girl who had so wanted to scale society's ladder? Why had she turned away from the Duke, to instead gaze into a pair of eyes of the most perfect shade of blue? She had to be joking. What would her father say? Would he ever allow … ? _No_, of course not. The simple fact that she was thinking of Cousin Matthew and marriage in the same sentence was simply inconceivable. Oxymoronic. So when the letter from Evelyn Napier had arrived to accept the Crawleys' kind invitation to visit, Mary decided to simply be more rational and think about her future. But a thought was haunting her: was she ever going to find someone attractive besides Matthew? The Duke hadn't been so bad to look at, but all she had found herself doing was comparing him unfavourably to Matthew's gentler features. Was she broken, now? Had Matthew put some kind of spell on her? Mary hadn't been successful in ignoring her need to be near her cousin, especially over Christmas and New Year's holiday, but she had decided to be much more reserved now that they were expecting another suitor. She had to keep her mind free of Matthew. She had to keep it ready and eager for conversation with the Honourable Evelyn Napier.

However Matthew had found yet another way to sneak into her mind. He was sitting on _her _bench and he looked so miserable that her heart just couldn't take it.

"What are you hiding from?" She asked. "Or shall I say, _who_?"

Matthew smiled sadly and turned his head to look at Downton Abbey in the distance. "I had a bit of a disagreement with Patrick, that's all."

"A _disagreement_?" Mary echoed. "Haven't seen you having many of those. You two are as thick as thieves! What happened?"

Matthew wasn't sure about telling her the story. He didn't want Mary to know there was another girl interested in him. He didn't want her to think there was someone else in his mind. But he did realize that concept was simply absurd, so he just came out and said it. "There was this woman, a nurse, in the hospital this morning who showed some kind of interest in me," he explained as Mary nodded a bit too energetically. "I did not encourage her and Patrick became mad at me. He said he's worried that the aristocratic world is getting into my head too much. Then when I resented his words, we started saying things we both did not believe, not really." Matthew wasn't going to tell Mary about Patrick's assumptions concerning the two of them. He already felt so silly and out of place with his feelings as it was. He could never voice them out loud to her and make a fool of himself. "I—I didn't feel anything between me and the girl, but—"

"But?" Mary echoed hesitantly.

"I've been thinking about Patrick's words and I wonder if I should ask her out, after all. I mean – Patrick is right – I don't really know her; I can't say for sure that she's not the right girl for me."

Matthew hadn't really asked for Mary's opinion, but she felt like stating her piece. "I don't think you should ask her out," she whispered.

Matthew felt his heartbeat quicken and his palms sweat. "Do—do you really think that?"

"I don't think you should settle for the first girl who flirts with you. You should choose a girl who makes your heart beat fast, who makes you feel butterflies in your stomach and all of those silly things. You are not like me, you _can_ choose who you want to be with. You can have anyone you want. You should not settle; you should go after the real thing."

"Maybe you're right," he voiced carefully. _Except for one thing, _he wanted to say, _I can't have anyone that I want. Maybe I will never have the real thing_, _I can never have you_.

"I'm sure Patrick is just being hot-headed as usual. You two will be plotting together again very soon."

Matthew chuckled and looked at Mary fondly. "What about you? Are you excited about your new suitor?"

"Is it weird that I am not?" She replied, but quickly regretted it. Matthew certainly wasn't the appropriate person to be discussing her doubts with. "I suppose I am a bit afraid, instead." She admitted.

"Maybe this only means, my dear cousin, that we are both really scared of marriage."

"Maybe you're right." Mary agreed and they both looked away and in front of them, almost in synchrony. "And he's bringing a Turk along with him!" Mary cried annoyed, causing Matthew to laugh. "I couldn't be less excited by the prospect than I already am!" She kept whining, lightening the conversation. "Are you coming on the Hunt, as well?"

"I'm afraid not," Matthew informed, noticing her disappointment. "I have this church tour set up, which if I recall correctly, I had only planned for the sake of sparing you your sister's meddling." He teased her.

Mary chuckled. "Of course! I had completely forgotten the hunt will be on the same day. I suppose Patrick is out of the hunt as well, then."

"Oh no, he's coming. He wouldn't miss the hunt for all of the world and he has left the unfortunate task to me to inform Edith."

"I feel for you." Mary teased him and chuckled. "She won't be pleased."

Matthew just listened and laughed with her during the whole afternoon. Mary had completely forgotten about the book. At that time he could hardly believe that such a beautiful person as Mary could ever cause him sorrow. He was wrong, so terribly wrong.

* * *

The weekend after, Matthew woke up in the best of moods. He was supposed to go to the Abbey for tea before the churches tour with Edith. Cora had been so pleased by their tour plan that she had invited him to tea to thank him. Matthew, on the other hand, was eager to reach the Abbey as soon as possible to get even a small glimpse of Mary in her horse-riding gear. He knew it was almost idiotic, but he felt really good knowing that Mary wasn't particularly eager to be pursued that evening. Knowing that he'd still be allowed to have some little moments alone with her made him really happy. What unsettled Matthew's good mood, though, was the fact that he still hadn't talked with Patrick, and every time he thought about his beautiful cousin Mary, the thought of Patrick's judgement about them would haunt his mind.

"Mother, I think I'm going to head to the Abbey early," Matthew informed Isobel once in the drawing room. "We'll probably see each other for dinner."

"Don't you want to check the mail first?" She said smiling broadly.

"I think it can wait. I will only be able to answer on Monday anyway."

"I have to disagree with you on this one," Isobel said excitedly. "I think you'll want to read what's here this morning."

Matthew looked at his mother amused. He knew her expression very well; something must be up. He took the whole of the morning's post in his hands and started to go through it, feeling Isobel's anticipation in the air. After bills, client contacts, and other boring stuff, he recognized the pretty handwriting on one of the envelopes and a smile curved his lips. He turned the envelope to open it, just as excited, and noticed something that made him chuckle. "It looks like it has been opened," he pointed out, teasing his mother.

"Oh, I'm sorry! When I recognized the hand, I just couldn't resist!"

Matthew wasn't mad, but he loved to tease his mother affectionately whenever he could. "But what if Annabelle was writing a secret confession to me? It isn't really fair of you, dear Mother!"

"Well, it's her fault for writing only to you and not to her aunt as well! Now hurry up and read it!"

Matthew laughed out loud and removed the letter from the envelope. Annabelle Stresemann was Matthew's first cousin and Isobel's niece. Isobel's only sister, Penelope, had met this German merchant one day in Manchester not long after Isobel's wedding to Reginald, and had decided to follow him all the way to Germany to marry him. Isobel's father had learned not to interfere too much with his stubborn daughters, and thus had indulged Penelope in the end. She was now happily married to Franz Stresemann, and lived in Germany with their precious daughter Annabelle.

Even though money was not a problem for the German merchant's family, the distance made it impossible for the Crawleys and the Stresemanns to see each other more than once per year, and since their move to Yorkshire, Matthew and Isobel hadn't had the chance to visit Germany in a long time. But time and space had not been enough to tear apart the two affectionate cousins. Even though Annabelle had more than ten first cousins on her father's side, she made no secret of the fact that Matthew was her favourite. There was something about their bond (which she justified by their British blood) and Matthew's gentle character which made Annabelle not want to confide in any other.

"_My dear Cousin,_" Matthew began to read aloud "_it is with great excitement that I'm able to write to you that I am going to be visiting you and dear Aunt Isobel next month. Apparently your mother and my parents have been planning this for months now, but they decided to reveal the surprise at my birthday last week. I cannot begin to express my happiness to finally see you and England again. I've missed it very much (maybe not your cooking, though)! I also am very excited to be visiting Yorkshire for the first time, and getting to meet all of your newfound cousins, especially this Patrick and Mary you write so much about. I'm hoping I won't be too jealous, but I'm ready to fight for your affection!_

_Your dearest cousin (I'm still the dearest, right?),_

_Annabelle_"

Matthew finished the letter and was instantly filled with excitement. How could his mother have managed to keep this secret for so long? The idea of having his dear Annabelle visiting Yorkshire really warmed his heart. He hadn't seen her in almost two years and felt that he needed his favourite confidant now more than ever. He hadn't spoken of his feelings for Mary in his letters, but evidently Annabelle had picked up on something, just as she always would, and Matthew simply couldn't wait for the two of them to meet. But a small spark of sadness filled him when he felt the need to run and tell Patrick but remembered that they still weren't speaking to each other. He had decided to put his pride aside and invited Patrick for dinner a couple of times, but his cousin still didn't seem ready to face him.

Matthew exchanged a few excited ideas with his mother for Annabelle's arrival, but when the time for tea came, Matthew dismissed himself from Isobel and mounted his bicycle in the courtyard. He was incredibly excited to announce his first cousin's venture, but decided to slow down his pace to avoid arriving at the Abbey very sweaty. When Carson welcomed him on the front door, Matthew smiled at the sight of the horses and the dogs being prepared for the hunt. His mind travelled to Mary and Patrick who were probably getting ready in their chambers. William took Matthew's coat, once inside, and escorted him to the drawing room where he found Cora, Edith, Sybil and the Dowager Countess.

"Oh, Matthew! Please, come sit with us." Cora cried affectionately as the young man took a seat between her two daughters. Cora couldn't look at the handsome cousin without feeling a little guilty. She really did like Matthew; he was a nice young man and had been nothing but good and affectionate to her family. The more she looked at him, the more she realized why Mary was so fond of his company. If they had been living in America, where Cora grew up, nobody would have objected to giving her first daughter in marriage to a solicitor. But this was not America, and the Crawleys were not like her family overseas. British women did not inherit as Cora had. It didn't matter if her Mary was the first daughter of the Earl of Grantham; she could not _be_ anything until she married, she could not _have_ anything. That is why Mary needed to make a very good marriage, to insure her future, as well as that of her younger sisters. Matthew, despite how dear and loving, could never give Mary that. Cora could only go on with her plan because she knew that Mary was not yet irretrievably in love with Matthew. It broke Cora's heart, but she knew she had to separate them before it was too late. She had to make sure Evelyn Napier was the right path for Mary.

But perhaps what made her feel so guilty was that she hadn't stopped Violet's plan to try to pair Matthew with Edith. The Dowager Countess was elated at the idea of the two of them spending the afternoon together, but Cora felt that separating Matthew from Mary was cruel enough. Condemning him to a lifetime as Mary's brother-in-law would be far more heartless.

"I have exciting news for you!" Matthew announced, looking thrilled. "My first cousin who lives in Germany, Miss Annabelle Stresemann, is coming to Yorkshire to visit me and my mother next month."

"Oh, how lovely!" Cora declared.

"She's just one year older than Sybil, so naturally I can't wait for all of you to meet her!"

"Oh, dear me," Violet replied. "How will we communicate? I dare to say, none of us know the German language!"

Matthew couldn't help letting out a chuckle. "Don't worry, Cousin Violet. I assure you that Annabelle speaks remarkably good English. I regret to admit that I don't speak as much German as I should!"

"It's terrific news," Sybil intervened cheerfully. "I'm sure she's lovely." She smiled, reassuring Matthew.

"Cousin Cora?" They all heard, and turned their heads towards the door.

"Patrick, dear, what is it?"

Patrick hesitated when his gaze landed on Matthew. "I'm just passing by to inform you that Mary and I are mounting the horses now; your guests should be here any minute."

"Oh thank you, darling. We're all coming to see you off, then."

Patrick nodded and disappeared quickly out the door, so when they were finished with tea, Matthew sped up his pace, hoping to catch Patrick alone. Matthew stopped in the hall, waiting for his coat, but still couldn't see Patrick as he glanced outside.

"So," a voice startled him from behind. "I heard your first cousin is coming to visit you all the way from Germany." Matthew turned his head to find Patrick wearing a conciliatory expression. "I hope you won't forget about your silly male cousin once she's here."

Matthew chuckled, accepting his subtle apology. "How could I ever forget about my brother?" Patrick seemed to be pleased by his reply and smiled kindly. "I have to warn you, though," Matthew decided to add, "Annabelle is pretty monopolizing. You might find yourself fighting for my company," he teased.

"I don't think that will be problem. You do know that what I lack in brightness, I perfectly make up for with enthusiasm!"

Matthew escorted his cousin outside, infinitely happy to finally be reconciled. Edith was already ready to go, and was looking at Patrick with longing. When they reached Patrick's horse, Matthew lifted his gaze and was surprised to find that Mary was already there and mounted. She looked so beautiful in her riding gear, and when she noticed her two cousins together she simply smiled and mouthed to Matthew, 'I told you, so'.

"Do you see them, Mary?" Patrick asked glancing in the distance.

"No, but they should be here by now." Mary sighed and brought her eyes to the landscape as well. "Oh, there is Mr. Napier!" She stated then, and pointed at a cavalier with a red coat.

Matthew felt instantly out of place. He dismissed himself from the two cousins and joined Edith who was waiting not too far away. It was time to go. As they walked along the gravel path and the Abbey was becoming smaller and smaller, Matthew turned his head one more time. He glanced at Mary and saw her talking with the man with the red coat, and as his stomach began to flutter he noticed another man with a black jacket and darker skin approaching the party as well.

* * *

When he finally set foot back in Downton Abbey that evening, after changing into his dinner clothes, Matthew had found the strangest of settings. It all had begun when Patrick had welcomed him right before dinner. Matthew had promised himself not to show his interest in Mary while in Patrick's company, but he couldn't help himself from asking how the afternoon with Mr. Napier had gone.

"She didn't seem to like him too much," Patrick informed him, but his tone changed when he started to chuckle. "You'll be surprised to see the direction that Cousin Mary's interest has taken."

Matthew didn't fully understand Patrick's snarky comment until he came to witness it with his own eyes. Alongside Mr. Napier, who Matthew had briefly seen already, there was another gentleman sitting at the dinner table. His accent and his exotic looks told Matthew he must be the Turk that Mary had told him about. He remembered how annoyed she was at the idea of him, only one week ago, but the look in her eyes now was expressing something else entirely.

Matthew wasn't completely oblivious. From the expression on all of the ladies' faces around the dining table, he realized that Mr. Pamuk's features were far gentler and far more pleasing to a lady's eye than most Englishman that he had ever met. He couldn't help feeling a rush of jealousy and humiliation when he realized that Mary's gazes were no longer directed at him, as they had been during past dinners. Whenever her gaze would travel the table and land inadvertently on Matthew, she would turn her head immediately. Matthew couldn't have felt worse even if he had tried. He felt so incredibly stupid because for the first time, it was not his or Patrick's common sense, it was actually Mary's behaviour that was making it painfully clear that he had been living a silly fairytale in his head. How could he have had let himself believe, even for a few seconds, that someone so beautiful and so out of his reach could actually be interested in someone like himself? He was a petty middle-class solicitor, after all. She was Lady Mary Crawley, the first daughter of the Earl of Grantham. The great gulf between them had never felt as real as in that moment.

Mary had had the most interesting afternoon. In the past few months she had tried and tried to chase away from her mind the thought of her Cousin Matthew and her inappropriate attraction to him. She hadn't dared to speak to anyone about it, not even her darling Anna. But by doing so, her bottled-up feelings were slowly becoming an obsession. When the Duke had come along, and even Mr. Napier, Mary had resigned herself to the idea that she would never find anyone as attractive as Matthew. But then … then Kemal Pamuk had come into her life, riding a white horse.

He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. His beauty was very different from Matthew's in more than one way, yet her body was responding to him just as strongly. He was exotic and exciting, but what drew Mary to him all the more was a sweet sense of _liberty_. He was living proof that she was not a slave to her feelings for Matthew; she could feel attraction to other men which meant she was in charge of her emotions. She was _free_ and nothing and no one was going to influence her own decisions, her own wishes. But this empowering realization hadn't exactly led her to act according to her common sense. She could rationally understand that even Mr. Pamuk wasn't exactly husband material either, but she had been playing along with his advances just because she _could_. Because she could, and because she was enjoying it as well. But she could not have imagined that her flirting would have led Mr. Pamuk to corner her and kiss her in another room.

Mary stopped the kiss as soon as she could, and warned the diplomat's son not to touch her, as propriety did command her. But when the handsome man had left her alone in the dark room, she couldn't help thinking how much she had enjoyed it. That had been the first time a man had kissed her and the attraction, running like electricity throughout her body, had helped her enjoyment of this first experience. She stood there for a few moments, brushing her swollen lips. She re-ran in her head the whole scene and almost mindlessly, she began to imagine Matthew kissing her instead of Mr. Pamuk. She felt her stomach flutter and the blood rushing to her cheeks. Would she have felt the same things, if it had been Matthew? Would she have felt more? But most importantly, was she really free of Matthew?

When she stepped back into the drawing room, she learned that Matthew had decided to leave early, citing a strong headache. She looked longingly at the door, wondering if she had something to do with his early departure. But her gaze was soon met by her Granny's and that reminded her that she had to free her mind completely of Matthew. She couldn't let those worries ruin her perfect evening. But whereas she had commanded herself not to think of Matthew, she had also ordered herself not to meet Kemal's eyes again. So she spent the rest of the evening making polite conversation with Evelyn, hoping to maybe patch things up with him.

When the evening came to an end, everyone retired to their chambers but Mary simply couldn't find the peace of mind to fall asleep right away. A torrent of different emotions had plagued the different phases of her day and she was now filled with endless doubts. She picked up the novel from the nightstand and began to read, hoping to chase away her afflictions. Then she heard a noise, long after everyone had gone to bed. She raised her gaze and realized it was her door swinging open. Mary jumped out of her bed and gasped as she saw Mr. Pamuk entering her room and closing the door behind him. Quickly she got hold of her bedspread and covered herself, whispering "You must be mad!"

"I am," He whispered staring at her with his intense eyes. "I _am _in the _grip of _madness."

"Please leave at once, or I'll—"

"You'll do what?"

"I'll scream."

Mr. Pamuk chuckled, revealing a mischievous smile. "Would you really let them find a _man_ in _your bedroom_ at this time of night?"

Mary swallowed heavily, feeling her body shaking. "Do you have any idea of what you're asking? I'd be ruined if they only knew we had this conversation, let alone we—"

"What?" His eyes seemed to be gentler for a moment. He came closer to her and whispered. "You don't have worry; you'll still be a virgin for your husband."

"Heavens! Is this a proposal?"

Kemal grinned. "I don't think our union would please your family, nor mine. But come on, a little imagination … You wouldn't be the first one to slip …" He said, taking her face between his hands, starting to place hot kisses down the length of her neck.

Mary gasped as his lips touched her skin. She could feel her head beginning to spin and her chest rising and falling at the rhythm of her irregular breath. "You and my parents have something in common … You think I'm much more of a rebel than I really am," Mary warned him, but it was too late. He had already trapped her underneath him on her bed. He kept speaking soothing words into her ear, and Mary wondered if she could have managed to escape his grip. But even so, what difference would it have made? If she had screamed, if she had tried to get away, they still would have found a man in her bed. Her life would be ruined; no one would have wanted her then. So she decided to give in. She let his hands touch her body and his lips kiss hers. But as Kemal's attention drifted away from her face, Mary lifted her eyes to stare at the ceiling. Her mind travelled once again to Matthew. Oh sweet _sweet_ Matthew, with his blue eyes and his kindness. What would he think of her now? Could he ever look at her again, if he knew? Mary shut her eyes fiercely, and repressed the tears with all of her strength, wondering when this nightmare of a night was ever going to end. What she didn't know was that the worst part was yet to come.

* * *

On the next morning Matthew and Isobel were surprised to find only Patrick and Robert at the Sunday service. Matthew had looked everywhere in the church, but it seemed the ladies of the house had all skipped it. It was only after the service had ended that Patrick and Robert approached them to inform them of the incident. The Turkish gentleman with whom they had conversed and laughed with, just the night before, had died during the night from heart failure.

In that moment Matthew completely forgot about his feelings of jealousy and humiliation which had plagued him the night before. He needed to see Mary. He wanted to run there, he wanted to hold her; he wanted to know if she was alright. The desperate need growing inside of him, though, was not helping him find a sufficiently good excuse to be asked to Downton Abbey. It was Patrick, out of everyone, who understood perfectly the look in Matthew's eyes, and invented some meaningless plea to invite him over. When they both reached the front door of the big house, Patrick stopped just before entering and with a small movement of his head, he pointed towards the Sycamore tree. Matthew nodded gratefully and had to apply all of his strength to stop himself from running and draw attention.

"Mary, I—" He cried breathlessly as he found her sitting on her bench, sobbing while trying to read the book in her hands.

"Matthew, please …" She begged him, knowing that she just couldn't have handled his kind words at that moment.

"You are reading _that _again." Matthew pointed out, hoping that she would appreciate the change of subject.

Mary tried to pull herself together, and glanced at the copy of _Tess of the D'Urbervilles _in her hands. "Somehow, it seemed fitting," she let out, pondering on the similarities between herself and Tess. "Have you read it?" She asked.

"I'm halfway through it. Angel has gone to Brazil to reflect."

"Do you want to know if he comes back?" She whispered and Matthew found it impossible not to nod. "He does," she said as her voice began to crack because of sobs. "He comes back from Brazil and forgives her."

"But why are you— if you know that he will come back and forgive her, why are you crying?"

"Because I know how it will end."

**A/N: **_Alllllright. I know it may seems from this chapter that I don't listen to you, but I really do appreciate your comments and care about your feelings, I swear! I will try to explain why to me the Pamuk incident was essential. First of all, it is a fundamental dramatic point for the story, and secondly I find it absolutely essential to Mary's character development, just as it happened on canon. I have tried in this chapter (and I hope the message was received) to show how Mary and Matthew are falling in love at two different rates: Matthew falls for her almost instantly, whereas Mary's character doesn't let her do the same. She hasn't been hostile to him in the beginning because the context was different, this way she was able to see only the good things about Matthew. But there's something so fundamental about her character that to me makes it impossible for her season 1 self to consider marrying beneath her. As much as she will realize how deep her feelings are, she is no Sybil. To me this is an essential part of her young and reckless self and paired with the obvious disapproval of her family, it will make Mary and Matthew's path a lot more tortuous. Just stick with me to see the direction I will take you, we are largely drifting away from canon, from now on._

_As for Annabelle, my original character, I absolutely can't wait for you to meet her! I thought it was weird that Matthew had no other family beside the Crawleys, so I gave him a german cousin, which would justify him not seeing so much of her. Her surname comes from Gustav Stresemann, who became Germany's Prime Minister after WWI and tried as much as he could to patch things up with the UK (even thought we know how that went). In the story Gustav Stresemann will be Annabelle's uncle (I checked and Gustav had seven brothers and sisters)._

_I'm really looking forward to hear your thoughts about this chapter, mostly because I'm really nervous about the Pamuk thing, I hope you don't give up on me!_

_**Ps:**__If you don't know the story of Tess of the D'Uberville, so you found difficult to understand the references, here's the summarized plot (if you don't want it spoiled, don't read!):_

_Tess and her family find out they are related to the noble family of the D'Ubervilles. She is sent to the other part of the Country to meet them, but before meeting Mrs D'Ubervilles she bumps into her son Alec, who begins to take a liking to her. He refuses to accept her as part of his family and tries repeatedly to seduce her, until one day in the woods it's not really clear if he succeeds or he forces himself on her. Tess becomes pregnant after this and runs back to her parents, where she gives birth to her sick child who dies shortly after. There she meets Angel Clare, a good man who falls in love with her and marries her. But when Angel finds out about her past, he goes to Brazil to reflect. Tess feeling lonely and convinced that Angel will never come back, goes back to Alec but things get bad during an argument and she kills him. Even when Angel comes back to her and forgives her because he loves her, there's nothing more to do: she is wanted for the murder of Alec D'Ubervilles and she has to face her penalty with a public execution._


	7. Awkward Dinner

**A/N:** _Well hello my darlings! I apologise for the delay, I'm sure it seemed I had ran away after dropping the Pamuk bomb :D! But it wasn't like this, I promise! It was only a hell of a week, filled with social and university commitments. It actually won't improve, since I have a final in less than two weeks, but I'll try my best. _

_As usual I thank all of you who reviewed, favourited and alerted the story! Reviews are always inspiring, comforting and challenging! I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this story! Another big thank you as always goes to my beta _**_jmu_**_!_

_Now I leave you to a very awkward dinner :P_

**Chapter Seven: Awkward Dinner.**

Mary stepped into the big bright hall and gave a quick look at all the villagers setting up the tables for the flower show. She recognized Mrs. Campbell from the spice shop setting a large white cloth on the table with her two little girls trying to help her stretch it to the opposite side. She recognized several others villagers that she had known since she was a toddler, but then her eyes settled on the man trying to set up the big banner: it was Moseley, Patrick's clumsy valet.

"Ugh, _that _woman is here." Her granny whispered annoyed, glancing at the woman under the banner, giving Moseley directions. Mary recognized cousin Isobel, and she couldn't help feeling her heart racing at the possibility of Matthew being there as well. She turned her head automatically, scanning the whole room for his presence, moving in an abrupt way that did not suit at all a Lady such as herself.

Mary sighed in disappointment when she realized Matthew was nowhere to be seen. She squeezed the handle of her purse a little too much to suppress her feelings of longing. During the past month she had been in a perpetual state of depression. She didn't feel as though she could quite grasp it yet, but she was sure that the events which had occurred just four weeks earlier were going to change her life forever. If not, Mary knew that they had changed her heart already. No one but her mother and Anna (who were the horrified keepers of her dark secret) could give a rational explanation to Mary's moping attitude. Everyone had constantly tried to understand it, to find out what the source of it was, and Mary felt like she couldn't breathe. The only one who seemed to have understood her silent prayer was Matthew. He had understood, without a single word from her, that all she needed was time to deal, _by herself_, with whatever it was that plagued her. He had come to the Abbey almost every single day, citing the most diverse excuses, just to try to cheer her up. Some days he would talk about a book he was reading, some days about his mother's new step to save the world, and some days it was just silly things that would steal a smile from her lips. If Mary had thought a union between the two of them was impossible because of her social superiority, now she knew it was quite the opposite. _He _was too much for her, she did not deserve him. He was so handsome and kind and noble and gentle, whereas she was just a fallen woman. No, she wasn't even that anymore. She was the ghost of who she used to be, and if Matthew bore any feelings at all for her, they would dissolve as the clouds on a sunny day if he were to learn of her disgusting actions. No, she did not deserve him. But the irony of it all was that the people around her, Matthew included, thought that he was the one who did not deserve her. It was _sick_. Completely, utterly _sickening_.

"Oh Mary dear, you're here as well!" Isobel cried interrupting her trail of thoughts.

"Good Morning, Cousin Isobel!" Mary greeted her kindly, eyeing her granny's annoyed expression.

"I am here with Patrick, actually. He's gone out to fetch me something." Isobel informed her excited.

"Oh." Mary said surprised. "Does that mean Matthew isn't around?" She asked, hoping that she didn't sound too expectant. At the mention of Matthew's name, Mary saw a blonde girl not far from them raising an eyebrow in their direction.

"I'm afraid it does. He took the first train to London this morning."

"London?"

"Yes." Isobel smiled. "Annabelle arrives today."

"Of course." Mary replied, remembering the arrival of the mysterious German cousin. "I had almost forgotten that you all are coming for dinner tonight."

"Oh yes, they're going to spend the whole day in London but they'll arrive in Downton by dinner time."

"How… lovely." Mary replied hesitantly.

"It is, isn't it? They have a lot of catching up to do and Matthew has planned to take Annabelle to all of her favourite places there."

Mary couldn't help noticing the sting of jealousy growing under her skin. Somehow, the notion that his kindness and affection were going to be directed to another girl for a whole day (even if it was his first cousin), made Mary's blood boil in her veins. She imagined how lovely it would be to spend an entire day in London with Matthew, a luxury that she was probably never going to have. In that moment words stuck in her mouth, making her unable to properly answer cousin Isobel, and so she was immensely grateful to see Patrick appear at the front door.

"Here is the rope you asked for, Cousin Isobel! Oh Mary, good morning!" He said cheerfully while approaching them.

"Good morning, Patrick. Cousin Isobel was just telling me about Matthew's day in London with his cousin."

"Oh yes. And how he has left me to do all of the dirty work for the flower show!" Patrick joked and raised his gaze, recognizing something or someone. "Lucy!" He called quite loudly, catching the attention of the blonde who had been eavesdropping just before. _Is that Lucy?_ Mary thought, _Interesting_. She watched the girl quietly approach them. Mary smiled a little too brightly to herself, noticing that she was not a great beauty. Lucy was pretty, that had to be acknowledged, but her features would simply fade next to the very handsome Matthew.

"Oh hello dear!" Isobel greeted her. "I didn't know that you knew Patrick!"

"Matthew introduced us at the hospital about a month ago." Patrick explained with a kind smile, and then turned and realized that the girl didn't know Mary. "Oh and Lucy, this is my cousin, Lady Mary Crawley".

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mary." The girl bowed and looked at the dark-haired beauty with frightened eyes.

"How do you do, Miss Richmond." Mary pronounced, using a formal greeting on purpose. Then her eyes left Lucy as quickly as they landed on Isobel. "So tell me Cousin Isobel," she began, ignoring the blonde completely, "does Matthew have an idea of which activities would please Annabelle the most during her stay?"

"Oh, about that!" Isobel responded, "Annabelle is really fond of country fairs, and Matthew was wondering if you and Patrick would like to visit Downton's Fair with them on one of these evenings."

"That sound like a lovely idea." Mary smiled.

"Yes." Patrick responded. "We always visit them anyway, so it won't be a problem!"

"Marvellous!" Isobel exclaimed. "Now you'll have to excuse me while I have a word with your grandmother." Mary and Patrick watched her interaction with the Dowager Countess with amusement. It was after a while that Mary realized that Lucy Richmond was still with them.

"If you plan to go to the fair with Mr. Crawley," Lucy began, annoying Mary with her cutesy voice, "you should come by my grandparents' booth. For every fair my grandmother and her cook prepare their homemade jams and sell them to collect money for the orphanage."

"That's very—" Patrick began kindly, but was quickly interrupted by Mary.

"Oh I don't know. The fair is pretty muddled and I don't know if we'll have the time to check out every booth. But I'll make sure that my father's cook and kitchen maids visit it and contribute to your good cause." Mary's words were sharp and her look suggested a challenge, but Lucy wasn't up to it. She certainly wouldn't have dared to sustain Mary's gaze and she probably wouldn't have been able to. That was why she quickly thanked them and returned to helping her father.

"Mary!" Patrick cried once they were left on their own. "That was not polite at all!"

"Why?" Mary asked nonchalantly. "I just didn't want the poor girl to _get her hopes up_." She concluded, sounding nasty and amused on purpose.

Patrick noticed her expression and opened his mouth for the realization, "He told you, didn't he?"

Mary hesitated, unsure of what Patrick would make of her and Matthew's confidence. "Why do you find that so absurd?" She asked defensively.

"Oh, no reason in particular … I just think cousin Matthew is such a softie sometimes …" He joked.

"Speak for yourself, Jane Austen!" Mary teased him, recalling the day almost a year before.

"He told you _that _too?!" Patrick whined. "But he had promised me!"

"To be fair, I made him tell me. I can be very persuasive." She said chuckling.

"That's the last straw; you two should be separated." Patrick teased, but he noticed Mary's uneasiness soon enough. He had made a promise to himself not to interfere, not to mention their attachment. He didn't know for certain if Mary returned Matthew's feelings, but he couldn't help thinking of how foolish they were being. Why was it so impossible to stay away from each other, when they both knew perfectly well _that_ was the path for unimaginable heartache?

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that anymore." Mary said in a sad, almost nostalgic tone. "I'm sure his cousin Annabelle will provide just that." She and Patrick instantly looked at each other with new understanding. They saw in each other's eyes the same fear of losing Matthew to somebody else. Maybe their basic feelings behind that fear were different, but when the two dark-haired cousins looked at each other, they understood now.

"You know Mary, I've been thinking …" Patrick began, shaking Mary from her melancholy. "I've always scolded Matthew because he thinks that chance will provide him the right woman, the one he'll want to marry. I disagreed, saying that things such as _chance_ or _destiny_ do not exist; that you have to work to make things happen." Mary mentally agreed with Patrick. "But now, I find myself in doubt. I've tried Mary, I really have. I've been in Society often to try and meet my future wife, but no one seems to _fit_, to _click, _to inspire in me those much wanted feelings."

"And so? Are you going to give up?" Mary asked puzzled. "You must know that Papa won't rest until you have given him another heir at least. He needs to know that Downton will stay safe for a couple of generations!"

"No, I have no intention to give up," Patrick clarified. "But I can't help but wonder if love and affection is really born by chance. I can't help but wonder if fate has decided to be cruel to me … to _us both_."

Mary wanted to laugh bitterly, because she knew that fate had been very cruel to her, but not in the way her cousin imagined. She listened quietly to his words, but then something hit her: the fear of knowing exactly where his speech was headed. "Patrick, you can't mean that …" her voice was shaking "…after all we've been through to make my parents relieve us from the obligation … you can't possibly want that." _now more than ever_.

"I'm not proposing to you, Mary," He said to her relief, "But I want to make a pact with you." With those words he turned his head to meet her eyes, more serious than ever. "If … let's say in five years, neither of is married or engaged and if either of us is just tired of searching … then we'll marry each other."

"Patrick, you don't have to make this kind of promise, I—"

"No Mary, I really mean it. Everybody knows that you, more than anyone, were born to be the Countess of Grantham. It's a shame that because of a silly old rule, I shall steal the title away from you. If I am destined to never know love at all, then I want to do this for you. I want to give you everything that you deserve. I know it sounds funny, given our differences during the past year, but I do love you. In a very brotherly way, I'm afraid, but I love you nonetheless."

Mary smiled briefly and was touched by Patrick's words. If her soul was always going to be plagued by the nightmare of Pamuk's death, if her heart was always going to be warmed by a man she would never be allowed to marry, then _that_ was a bargain she was willing to make.

"I love you too." She whispered, knowing that Patrick would understand exactly what she meant.

* * *

Outside the main entrance of the big house the weather was chilly. The light was beginning to trail off, but Cora had decided to welcome the new guest outside because they were meant to be there earlier. Cora glanced at her whole family lined up at the side of the front door; she and her daughters were on the left side, while her husband, Patrick, Isobel, and Carson were waiting on the right side. They had all granted Violet's wish that she wait in the drawing room, but now that the weather was getting colder and colder, they all found themselves wishing they were in the Dowager's shoes. Their heads finally turned, all together, when their house car appeared on the horizon. Patrick and Mary glanced at each other nervously, as they noticed Isobel gasping in excitement. The car followed the gravel path until it stopped in front of the entrance door. Branson smiled in the girls' direction from the chauffeur's seat, and just a few seconds later Matthew emerged from the door on the right. He went around the car to the left door.

"I apologise for our delay …" He said with a smile so bright that it made Mary's stomach flutter. "_Someone _got carried away in Covent Garden and we had to catch the later train." His chuckle, as he waited for Branson to open the door, was so delightful that Mary didn't know whether she should just enjoy it or feel threatened by the woman who had inspired it.

"_Don't mock me!_" A sharp and rather musical voice exclaimed as Branson opened the door. Matthew extended his hand and a small gloved one reached for it quickly. Annabelle Stresemann certainly wasn't the kind of girl that anyone would ignore. Her figure was petite and slender, but the first thing everybody noticed was that she was not wearing her hair up like every Englishwoman. Instead, just those strands of hair cornering her round face were pinned up, while long blond locks cascaded down her shoulders. Mary looked immediately at Annabelle's pretty face, half hidden by her hat, and she felt her throat closing up when the young girl raised her head, while stepping out of the car, to reveal the same pair of striking blue eyes that Mary had been admiring for a long time now.

"Good evening Miss Stresemann, and welcome to Downton!" Cora cried, bringing everyone out of their trance. She stepped ahead of her family and introduced herself.

"Lady Grantham, it's such a pleasure to meet you. I pray you to call me Annabelle." The petite blonde said with a bow of her head. Matthew escorted her to Sybil, then to Edith and finally to Mary. Matthew shot an apologetic look and crooked smile to Mary before introducing his cousin.

"Oh it's you, of course it's you!" Annabelle exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "I've been wanting to meet you as much as one would love to meet the main character of a favourite novel! But I'm afraid Matthew's words haven't done justice to your beauty!" She declared quite openly, showing her careless attitude towards propriety. Hinting that Matthew had written countless times about Mary, and the remark about her beauty caused both Mary's and Matthew's faces to turn crimson red. Mary hoped with all of herself that none of the others had witnessed this brief exchange. She focused her attention on Annabelle's accent, trying to ignore the fact that those crystal blue eyes of his were on Mary and the longer they stayed there, the more her skin would heat. It was Cora who broke the awkwardly powerful moment, calling Annabelle over to meet her husband and then of course, Patrick.

"This is the famous Patrick, then?" She asked in a witty tone.

"In the flesh." Matthew assured with a grin. Annabelle looked at him for a few seconds and then turned her head theatrically, sighing loudly.

"What is it?" Patrick asked puzzled. "What have I done? Do I have something in my teeth?" He sounded panicked.

Matthew chuckled and thanked the fact that all of the other relatives were already inside. "Don't pay attention to her, she loves to tease."

As they all stepped inside, Matthew took a moment to enjoy Annabelle's wowed expression at the sight of the great hall and the grand staircase. After that he saw Sybil approaching them.

"I think we should start by giving Annabelle a tour of the house, seeing that dinner isn't quite ready yet." The youngest Crawley announced in excitement, and received her mother's permission. As Sybil began to lead the way to the big library, followed by Matthew, Annabelle, Patrick and Edith, Mary tried to catch Matthew's gaze with no luck and started to follow the group but was quickly stopped by her mother's hand.

"Mary darling, I think you should come with me and let your sisters handle the tour."

"What are you talking about?" Mary asked, puzzled and annoyed. "She's our guest; I should perform my duties as host."

"Do you know who else is coming to dinner tonight?" Cora carried on, ignoring her daughter's question.

"It's that dreary neighbour of ours, isn't it? Poor old Sir Strallan?" Mary replied, shooting a longing look at the library's entrance. _Would he notice her absence? Or is he too distracted by that blonde German fairy?_

"Very well, and did you know he has just finished mourning his late wife? Did you know that he has a considerably large estate and a respectable position in society?"

"_Mama ..._" Mary cried annoyed, fearing her mother's intentions. Had she already found a new suitor for her, and on the same night when Mary intended to keep a close eye on Matthew's interactions with his cousin Annabelle?

"I don't like your tone, young lady. Since you know very well the horror you put me through last month, you will listen to me when I tell you that your situation is different now."

"How is it different, Mama?" Mary cried exasperated.

"You have brought a terrible stain on yourself, Mary. We can't have you unmarried for long; we have to try to get you settled as soon as possible now, before it all comes out."

"Before it comes out?! How can it – I know Anna would never do that to me! And Mama, _he's so old_!"

"We can't know for sure that your secret will stay hidden forever. Sir Anthony is a good man, he's _older_, but not _old_. Right now he is the best that we can muster, that you can muster."

"But can't we wait for the London Season? How many times will I be ordered to marry the man sitting next to me at dinner?"

"As many times as it takes."

"I refused to marry Patrick, who is young and who I do care about and have affection for. Is it likely that I'll marry Strallan instead?"

"My darling, that is not the point. You don't have the luxury to choose anymore. You are damaged goods."

"Mama... please..." _now that was just dramatic._

Cora looked at her daughter very seriously. She took a deep breath and started to speak, measuring her every word. "Somehow, I don't know how … there's a rumour going around London that you are not virtuous."

"What?" Mary exclaimed, hearing her voice suffocating and feeling her cheeks going pale. "Does Papa know about this?"

"He knows it and he dismisses it, because unlike you and me, he doesn't know that it is true." Cora stopped to watch for a moment the desperation in Mary's eyes. It broke her heart. "Let's hope it is just unkind gossip, but in the meantime we should act fast. Please be good tonight, and come to greet Sir Anthony in the drawing room."

"I'll come, but Mama … I know you mean to help, I know you love me … but I also know what I'm capable of, and forty years of boredom and duty just isn't possible for me. I'm a lost cause; you should concentrate more on Edith. She needs all the help she can get."

"You mustn't be unkind to Edith; she has fewer advantages than you."

"Fewer? She has none at all."

As mother and daughter walked nervously to the drawing room where Sir Anthony Strallan was waiting for them, neither had noticed that Edith was standing behind the library door and had heard absolutely everything.

When the general tour of Downton Abbey was finally over, the merry party headed back to the familiar drawing room. Matthew was incredibly pleased to see how Annabelle was getting along rather well with Sybil (even though the same thing could not be said about Patrick). As they stepped into the crowded room, Matthew's eyes instantly flew around in search of Mary, who had disappeared right before they had started touring. He found her in the left corner of the room pretending to be listening to her granny and an older man, wearing that annoyed expression that always managed to generate a chuckle from Matthew. This time was no exception. Matthew noticed Annabelle's eyes widening anxiously at the sight of the lot of them, and he turned to make sure she wasn't left unattended. His sociable cousin had started yet another animated conversation with Sybil, to which his mother had taken part, so Matthew felt comfortable approaching Mary nonchalantly.

"You ran away so quickly earlier," he teased whispering. "Did Annabelle's compliments make you uncomfortable?"

"Of course not," she reassured him. "The thing I find more alarming perhaps is that _apparently _she finds me more attractive than you do." She smiled, locking eyes with him, finding it impossible to suppress the need to flirt. Matthew didn't say anything but kept looking at her with wonder and a pleased grin. Mary would have liked to go on and on without breaking their connection, but she realized that they were in a room full of people when she suddenly noticed Annabelle's inquisitorial look at the two of them. She decided to ignore that and shrug away the odd feeling it gave her, and explained to Matthew the real reason that she'd run away so quickly before. "I must apologize about earlier, but my mother has managed to find yet another man to pair me up with at the dinner table." She said as she subtly eyed Strallan.

"So soon?" Matthew asked, trying to mask his displeasure. Mary nodded and sighed.

"I'm sure I would find Edith's company much more exciting than his." She commented in resignation.

"Well," Matthew began hesitantly, "If he is to sit by your side, I'll manage to sit on the other and try to brighten up your evening. I don't know if you'd describe your middle class cousin's company as exciting, but maybe I'll shine by comparison."

Mary's flirty smile brightened up her lips once more. "Maybe you will" she answered, as Carson stepped into the room to announce that dinner was served.

* * *

Matthew kept his promise and Mary found herself seated between him and Sir Anthony. At Matthew's left, Annabelle was sitting between her cousin and Patrick, while Mary's sisters followed in order.

"So, Annabelle," Robert began to make polite conversation, "Matthew tells me that you toured London this morning; do you find our Capital to your liking?"

Annabelle smiled graciously in reply to the earl. "I find London very exciting, Lord Grantham. And to top it off, Matthew is just the best tour guide!" She proclaimed and squeezed Matthew's hand in affection. The familiarity and easiness of that gesture made Mary feel on edge. She couldn't hate the girl, she didn't even know her, but she hated that Annabelle could do _that_ while she could not.

"I bet the journey must have been dreadful." Violet stated, joining the conversation. "Did you travel for so long on your own?"

"Oh no, not really." Annabelle responded in her musical voice. "I had my daddy's friends keeping me company until we arrived in London, and then … well then, there was Matthew." Every mention of his name in that pretty voice was a reminder of their closeness and a stab in Mary's side.

Cora, on the other side of the table, noticed Sir Anthony's puzzled expression, and decided to put it to rest, providing a chance maybe to involve Mary in the conversation. "You see, Sir Anthony," she began drawing his attention, "Miss Annabelle here comes from Germany."

"Oh really?" Anthony replied, finally feeling included. "I must say Mr. Crawley," he continued in Matthew's direction, "your _fiancée _speaks English so well I almost hadn't noticed she was a foreigner."

Mary's ears fully opened at the mention of that word, and she tried as hard as she could to prevent her face from revealing how absolutely sickened she felt. Fortunately the awkward moment didn't last for long, as Mary noticed that Matthew had let out a brief chuckle following his cousin's.

"You'll have to forgive my chuckles," Matthew said amused. "It's just that Annabelle is not my fiancée, but my dear first cousin."

"Oh, I do apologise for my mistake!" Anthony cried.

"There is no need to apologise," Annabelle assured him. "What made it so terribly funny was that when I was a little girl I was actually quite fixed on the idea of marrying Matthew." Mary couldn't have expected such sentence actually coming out of her mouth, so when the words were spoken she couldn't help choking of her sip of wine. Only her mother seemed to pick up on her strange reaction as Annabelle went on. "It was actually Matthew who had to explain to me that marriage between first cousins isn't very likely." She said with a chuckle.

"Sir Anthony, haven't you been in Austria and Germany recently?" Cora brought the conversation back to Mary's suitor.

"That is correct."

"How interesting." Mary commented to please her mother.

"Interesting _and _worrying. Though I'm afraid it is not polite to talk about German politics in Miss Annabelle's presence."

"Oh don't worry, Sir Anthony," Cora intervened. "I'm fairly sure German women avoid such topics as much as we Englishwomen do."

"Actually," Annabelle began, causing Matthew to shoot her a cautious look, "I'm not completely oblivious. My dear uncle Gustav has recently begun a career in politics. My family isn't happy about it, but I'm sure he'll make something of himself. After all, he's always been the brightest among Daddy's brothers."

"I think it isn't fair to talk about German politics since we never talk about English politics." Sybil intervened, a statement which made Robert roll his eyes.

"In my opinion politics is never a topic to be discussed at the dinner table." Violet wisely contributed. "_Any kind _of politics."

"You know," Annabelle continued in the direction of Sybil, "if you want to talk politics, that chauffeur of yours … mmm …"

"Branson?" Sybil asked.

"Yes, Branson." Annabelle agreed. "He's a truly excellent match for such conversation. He told me on the way here that there's to be an election soon."

"Yes!" Sybil enthused. "It is set to be in May; I'm very excited!"

"Oh my dears!" Violet cried annoyed. "Are we organizing a rally, here?" She sounded quite shocked. "Matthew, you should remind your lovely cousin that we don't discuss such topics with the servants."

"Granny, I must insist—" Sybil began.

"Do not argue, Sybil dear. The same exhortation goes for you."

"Annabelle." Mary interjected all of a sudden, trying to save both of the young girls from Violet's rage. "Do you have any plans for visiting the area? Are there some places in particular that you long to see?"

"Matthew will be showing me the estate tomorrow, I'm convinced there is no better way to start." Annabelle replied smiling once again.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Patrick intervened before anyone else could speak, "but I'll need Cousin Matthew by the cottages tomorrow. It is something we started long before you arrived, and I'm sure Matthew will want to see how the workers are doing."

"Well, I'm sure _Cousin Matthew_ thinks a bunch of country cottages can wait when he hasn't seen his cousin in one year!" Annabelle declared, maintaining her composure but shooting the deadliest look at Patrick.

"_Actually, _Annabelle," Matthew inserted breaking the fight, "I won't be able to show you the estate tomorrow." At that, Patrick showed his contender his shiniest grin. "And I won't be inspecting the cottages either." Matthew finished and Mary witnessed their cousins' amusing reactions. Matthew momentarily turned to Mary to share a complicit smile. "Tomorrow is Monday; some people do have jobs you know!" He teased, leaving his competing cousins disappointed.

"Well, if Annabelle wishes to visit the estate tomorrow, Patrick could always show it to her..." Mary said trying to be helpful.

"It's a marvellous idea, isn't it Matthew?" Isobel cried agreeing with Mary.

"It's actually rather genius." Matthew added with a small grin at Mary. "Plus, I assure you Annabelle that Patrick is much more qualified as a tour guide around here than I am".

Neither Patrick nor Annabelle seemed pleased by the idea, but they certainly couldn't act childishly in front all of those people, so they kept quiet and faded into other conversations, not even glancing at each other. As the dinner went on, the conversation was largely focused on Sir Anthony and his farms, topics that simply bored the hell out of Mary. Fortunately by the time for dessert, Cora gave in and subtly nodded in Mary's direction. Mary didn't waste a moment in quickly turning to Matthew.

"Mama has released me, _thank God_!" She whispered grinning, once she had Matthew's full attention.

"Strallan surely seems nice enough." Matthew said looking at Mary with affection and concern. He was amused by her winning grin, but knew that he mustn't let the others realize his reaction.

"If you want to talk farms and foxes by the hour." She replied with the purpose of making him chuckle, which he did. She didn't know what to say next, fearing to wipe away that beautiful smile with some unnecessary nonsense, but before either of them could speak Sir Anthony started to cough heavily after taking a bite of the dessert.

"_Good God!_" He cried coughing in his napkin. "I apologise Lady Grantham, but the dessert is filled with salt," he managed to say.

Cora immediately instructed everybody to put down their silverware and hurried Carson to bring something else to eat. But even as her mother apologised feverishly to poor Sir Anthony, Mary just couldn't help bursting into laughter. She managed to hide her amusement behind her napkin, showing her impropriety only to Matthew at her left. Matthew wanted to maintain some composure despite also finding the situation extremely funny, but when Mary turned her lovely amused face to him he just couldn't help himself. Her laugh was so deliciously infectious that he couldn't do anything but give in and laugh improperly with her.

Mary had decided, just for that evening, to stop questioning her feelings about Matthew, to stop questioning his behaviour and her own faults. The only thing that she knew in that precise instant was that whenever she saw Matthew smile, she felt happy... properly, blissfully happy. She didn't exactly know what that meant, nor did she have any intention to find out anytime soon, but the sight of yet another inquisitorial look from his cousin Annabelle had made Mary wonder. Did she actually love him? Well, maybe she did; after all they were cousins and they had been pretty close over the past year. But was she _in love _with Matthew? Just the notion of it sent a shiver all the way down Mary's spine. _She couldn't be..._ Tthat was the right answer. And even if she thought for a few seconds that she might be in love, she knew very well that she didn't deserve him. She was _damaged goods_, her mother was right.

Mary's gaze drifted soon, using her sister's conversation as a distraction. She couldn't bear to look into his blue eyes anymore, fearing they would ravage her soul with their intensity. She made it through dinner and the rest of the evening, but without those thoughts ever leaving her mind. Not even Edith's pathetic plan to make Patrick jealous with Sir Anthony's company had amused her as much as it should have. When she stood by the main entrance, bidding each guest goodbye, she felt her heart flutter a little when she noticed Matthew leaving her mother's side just to have a few words with her.

"It wasn't such a bad evening, after all." He said shyly with a hopeful smile.

"She is lovely, don't worry." Mary assured him. "I'm sure that if you give it time, even Granny will grow to love her. She just wouldn't ever admit it." She joked, earning Matthew's chuckle.

"I want to thank you for tonight. I don't know if it was intentional, but you saved Annabelle twice from making a very poor impression."

"Well, I don't how much longer I'll be able to rescue her; Patrick seems bloodthirsty." Mary answered with dramatic emphasis.

"He has definitely found someone who matches his enthusiasm."

"It should be fun to watch." Mary agreed, but before she could relax in their brief exchange, Annabelle reached them and affectionately put her arm around Matthew's, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Are we finally going home? I'm really tired!" She exclaimed.

And it was just that, that _tiny _gesture that made Mary realize just how much effect Matthew had on her, just how many feelings he inspired in her. The jealousy of his closeness with Annabelle, the hope of having that sort of intimacy one day, and the dreadful resignation to the fact that it would never, ever happen, not to her.

**A/N: **_There you have it, miss Annabelle will spice things up and maybe help the stubborn little head of Mary to realize she is in love with Matthew! Now I'm recalling one of you pointing out Gustav Stresemann was not Germany's prime minister, you're right I meant chancellor. It doesn't interfere with the story, I only needed him to be in politics. _

_Another thing: if you want to ask question about all of my stories, or simply chat about downton and stuff, you can find me on tumblr, my screen name there is _**_mocking-ginger_**_. My ask box is open!_

_Now I simply cannot wait to hear what you have to say, till the next time!_


	8. Love is in the air(or is it just trouble

**A/N: **_Hello you guys! As promised, I managed to give you an update earlier than the last time,and I hope it won't be disappointing for you! I want to thank everyone for alerting the story and for your reviews. Really it's so nice to read that you are enjoying it so much and that it makes your day when I post :), it really made me blush. I also love all of your ideas, and how some people pick up this or that , it's really entertaining! Keep them coming!_

_While thanking _**_jmu_**_ as usual for taking her time to proofread this, I want to give you heads up about the fact that I'm not sure I'll be able to be this quick the next time. This period is truly madness and I'm very stressed, so I plan to write whenever I'll feel like to. The last thing I want is to have this start feeling like work, if you know what I mean._

_Anyway, ignore my rant and enjoy the chapter because … love is in the air!_

**Chapter Eight: Love is in the Air (or is it just trouble?)**

Needless to say, Patrick's and Annabelle's visit of the estate didn't go so well. It was more appropriate to say that it had been a complete disaster. Remarks had been made, jokes misconstrued, and offences were taken as a result. Matthew tried countless times to inquire into the source of their ever-growing aversion, but neither Patrick nor Annabelle was able to elaborate on it. The only thing they knew for sure was that they possessed the exact traits needed to set each other off completely.

Two weeks after the disastrous estate tour, the famous fair had come to Downton Village and Matthew had sighed in annoyance when Isobel had kindly reminded him that he had promised to take Annabelle, and that Patrick was to attend as well. Matthew had sipped his tea nervously, not bothering to hide the frustration on his face. He was profiting from the fact that Annabelle had gone with Sybil to Ripon. It was not that Matthew wasn't immensely enjoying his cousin's company; he was rather content of it, actually. But the workload he had been carrying at his firm, plus the growing arguments between Patrick and Annabelle, weren't exactly putting Matthew in the right mood for a fair. _At least Mary was coming along_, he thought. Just the idea of seeing her beautiful porcelain face and her rosy lips curved into a polite-but-inviting smile was enough to make the prospect of the fair less dreadful. But Matthew knew that _that _was another sore note. If he had been frustrated and overwhelmed by his cousins' arguments, that was nothing compared to the great deal of confusion he felt when it came to his cousin Mary. Before Annabelle had arrived in Downton, Mary had been everything that he ever thought about. Matthew had woken up every single day with the sole purpose of helping her feel better, of stealing a little smile from her perfect full lips. And when he heard it, her laugh was infectious; when he was close enough to her, the natural scent of her skin was intoxicating. She had become an obsession, and while being so close to her without being able to touch her, to feel her, Matthew felt like a terminal patient whose last wishes were being denied, over and over again. It was torture, but the sweetest torture there ever was.

Now that his cousin Annabelle and her impetuous personality had come to visit him in Yorkshire, Matthew had thought that his feelings would give him a break, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Not seeing Mary wasn't easing his obsession, it was driving him mad. It was that which had brought Matthew to properly ponder the depth of his feelings for Mary. He was in love with her; he had no doubt of it. But the situation was far more complicated than that. He could not marry her; the family would never allow it. Patrick had made that pretty clear. Also, Matthew wasn't willing to make a fool of himself, to risk wrecking things with them, with _her_, permanently. The question was, how on earth could he forget about her? What if Mary was It? What if she was his true love? Was he ever going to be able to actually marry anybody else? Let alone _love _anybody else, with her as a constant presence in his family?

Matthew knew all of this whining wasn't manly at all. He needed to take control over his emotions, over his actions, and maybe consider opening his eyes to other things, to other _people_. But even as he made that silent pact with himself, he couldn't help but wonder … How did Mary feel about him? Surely knowing that would change everything. Matthew had never been good at reading people; he mostly wanted to believe there was good in everyone. He couldn't help wondering if he was picking up on the right signals from Mary. Some days, when they were alone sitting on the bench, something strange and unique would happen. When she would smile at him and he would look at her so lovingly, it was like they were the only two people in the world. Matthew hoped, well actually he _knew,_ that she could feel that too. But in those moments, he got the feeling that her eyes were saying one thing while her lips were saying something else entirely. Even though Matthew bore hope of forgetting about Mary so he could find a new love, he knew that if there was even the smallest chance that she loved him in return, if she would show him even in the most discreet way, then there would be no point of return for him. If Mary loved him, there would be no one else for him. If Mary loved him, then he was willing to fight for her. He was willing to go up against her family and fight for his happiness, for their happiness.

* * *

Mary blinked twice before nodding in consent to Anna in the mirror. Anna was definitely a fast learner. A few days back Aunt Rosamund had sent Mary a magazine which showed the latest fashion in the matter of hair styles. Mary had noticed one in particular which would work perfectly with the hat she had chosen to wear at the fair. Now that Anna had mastered the new style, she was glad to see that it suited her quite well.

"It turned out rather well, Anna." Mary spoke approvingly to her maid. A small, rather imperceptible smile lit up her face as she wondered if Matthew would notice the slight change in her appearance. It had been impossible to ignore the tension that had sprung around like bloody electricity between Patrick and Annabelle, and Mary knew very well that Matthew was the one suffering the most from it. The poor darling had had to endure two weeks of hell after the estate-tour-gone-wrong. Mary had overheard Patrick complaining rather childishly to him on more than one occasion, and given Annabelle's spirited character, Mary imagined that she rarely held her tongue when back in Crawley House.

That was why Mary felt a little bit guilty to be looking forward so much to their outing. She knew the situation was stressing Matthew out severely, but she missed him a great deal. The few times they had seen each other since the great dinner, they had barely talked as freely as they were used to, but Mary had noticed how Matthew's eyes always searched for hers in the room, seeking complicit help from their cousins' madness. She knew very well that those looks were prompted by great discomfort, but Mary couldn't help but feel pleased and quite flattered that Matthew would seek her understanding and support, out of everyone's.

"You look beautiful, milady." Anna smiled as she made the last adjustments. "I'm sure it won't go unnoticed." She hinted, making Mary fear that she was able to read her mind now.

"I don't think you should encourage me." Mary muttered, going straight to the point.

"I don't think my opinion would matter much, milady."

"But that means you do have one, doesn't it?" Mary urged her. "What is it then? Do you think me foolish, a silly dreamer perhaps?"

"Not at all." Anna assured her. "And if anyone would say that, it means they don't know you at all, milady." She smiled, hoping to rebuild Mary's confidence.

"Yet something tells me that you don't really share my practical sense."

"I think loving someone, _really _loving someone, it's a great gift but—" She seemed a bit shaken, not really comfortable to continue. "But being loved in return is a luxury you can't waste so easily."

"Do you think Mr. Crawley loves me?" Mary asked, blushing violently at the mention of his name and that verb in the same sentence.

"I am sure of it, just as I am sure that the sun rises in the east." Both women smiled at each other in the mirror. "I know you are still burdening yourself about – about events that you had no control over. But that doesn't mean you should punish yourself for it. I'm sure Mr. Crawley is not the kind of man that would withdraw his feelings so easily."

"But it's still no use, don't you see?" Mary sighed, standing up and letting the maid adjust her dress. "Even if someone so gentle and pure finds a way to make sense of my mistakes, it still wouldn't matter! I am to marry as soon as I can, but he will never do. Not for my parents and not for society."

"Milady he's hardly the social pariah you paint him to be. I'll agree that someone from the upper-middle class is not the usual match for the first daughter of an Earl, but your family loves Mr. Crawley. If you explain to your father about your feelings, he won't object. You won't have to give up your lifestyle; it's not as though he's one of _my_ sort of people."

Mary stood there, hearing Anna's reasons while watching her own figure in the reflection of the vanity. Anna's words were filling her head, clouding her judgment and her practical sense. She had to do something, she had to stop Anna. Otherwise she would have to believe her.

"I already told you, Anna," Mary replied in a stiff, emotionless voice, "I don't think you should encourage me".

* * *

When Mary came down into the drawing room later that afternoon, she soon forgot about the thoughts that had been plaguing her. Someone had had the courage to leave Annabelle and Patrick alone in the room, and Mary did not know whether she found their threatening glares more amusing or disturbing. From what she had observed thus far, Annabelle seemed to be a very lovely girl (she got along with Sybil terribly well) and everyone knew how easy-going Patrick was. For this reason Mary found it fascinating that such gentle personalities could undergo a very strange metamorphosis when in the company of each other.

"Good evening, Mary." Patrick greeted her while standing up politely.

As Annabelle greeted her again, Mary replied, "Good evening, Patrick. Annabelle." She finished with a nod. She must have conveyed some clear discomfort, because Patrick offered: "Cousin Matthew should be here at any moment. Miss Annabelle was already here with Sybil."

Mary nodded consciously and noticed Annabelle rolling her eyes theatrically, much to Mary's amusement. "Very well, then. I'll go downstairs and see if Mrs. Patmore has those sandwiches ready for us." And with that said, Mary dismissed herself from the drawing room. To reach the service staircase, Mary went by the entrance hall again where she caught Carson greeting Matthew who had just arrived. She slowed her pace on purpose, trying to appear unaware, but the smile on her lips betrayed her.

"Good evening," Matthew said as Thomas took his coat. "Are you ready for yet another great confrontation tonight?" He smiled naughtily and breathed warm air onto his hands after having removed the leather gloves.

"I'm afraid it already started." Mary smiled back, hypnotised by the vision of his lips curling up with each blow.

"You left them alone?" Matthew asked amused as Mary nodded. "You must not care very much about your expensive furniture, then." He teased, "I'd better go in and make sure they don't burn the room down."

"Good luck." Mary wished him with a playful smile, and after greeting one of the servants who had entered the room, she turned around and walked elegantly to the service staircase knowing that Matthew's eyes would follow her.

"Very well, then. Have a nice evening." Robert said at the main door later that day, after having hurried to see the quartet off. "I'm expecting you two to make the evening as enjoyable as possible for the ladies." Robert continued, mostly addressing his speech to Patrick who looked like he had already been warned.

"It will be our pleasure." Matthew assured, offering his arm to Annabelle. "Won't it, Patrick?"

"Of course." Patrick coughed, not sounding so convinced. He then mimicked Matthew's actions by offering his arm to Mary. Mary took it graciously, but on the way to the fair she couldn't help but wonder if Matthew wished to switch partners as much as she did.

When they reached the area where the fair was held, Annabelle began to tremble with excitement at the sight of all of the lights and vibrant colours. She certainly wasn't one to keep her passions and loves to herself. She wore her heart on her sleeve and didn't seem to be at all frightened by choosing to reveal so much of herself. Instead she comported herself so freely, so almost carelessly, and Mary could not believe that she almost envied her for that. Her granny would have painted such aspects of Annabelle's character as a lack of manners; Mary, on the other hand, was beginning to see the usefulness of such behaviour. How much happier would her life be, if only she was allowed to be honest and opened about her feelings! Such traits, however, were not to be associated with any Englishwoman, let alone with a Lady such as herself.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Mary …" Matthew began as they were taking a stroll through the stands. "Have you changed your hair? I'm not an expert, but it does look different. Lovely, but different." He finished with a shy smile.

Mary blushed lightly and smiled while happily nodding. "Yes, I have. Anna and I wanted to try the ultimate fashions from London. I dare say this hairstyle turned out well."

"It looks exquisite!" Annabelle agreed, getting a closer look.

"Thank you, to the both of you, then!" Mary replied politely, turning her eyes to Patrick's hazy expression.

"To be honest, I hadn't quite noticed. I—" Patrick commented, but was interrupted abruptly.

"That's because you are rude and don't know how to compliment a lady!" Annabelle did not lose the opportunity to goad him.

"Annabelle!" Matthew scolded her.

"Is that so?" Patrick replied angered, "Then you—"

"Patrick, be nice!" Mary intervened this time, muting her cousin. "We are having such a lovely night, let's not spoil it for anyone."

Matthew looked at her and smiled, a little proud. "Here, here!" He agreed, and Patrick and Annabelle seemed to withdraw their claws.

"Matty, can I buy some of that delicious fudge? They don't make it in Germany!" Annabelle exclaimed, having been distracted by the stand of colourful sweets.

"Of course," Matthew chuckled, watching Annabelle's child-like expression. "You can buy whatever you like."

Mary noticed Patrick's eye twitching, almost as though he was going to make some nasty remark about Annabelle's love for candy. She was glad to have caught him, because Patrick straightened up and, clearing his throat, said, "I'll see if there's something for Edith and Sybil." After receiving Mary's approving look, he headed to the stand of sweets himself.

"Well well well," Matthew said with an amused face, drawing Mary's attention, "the kids are gone!" Mary chuckled politely, hoping that if she concentrated well enough, she wouldn't blush very hard. For the first time that evening she was alone with Matthew, and given the playfulness of his words and his expressions, there was no telling how much longer Mary would be able to contain her uncharacteristic enthusiasm for the situation. "What to do you want to do?" He then asked more seriously, bringing their feet back on the ground.

Mary took a look around but simply couldn't decide. "I—I don't know. I'm not much of a candy lover, or at least I shouldn't be." She said, instantly inspiring a smile from Matthew.

"Perhaps you fancy a game, then?" Matthew suggested, and after he saw no objection in Mary's eyes, he scanned the area to find the first game stand. "Come on, let's play that!" He pointed and led her to the ring toss stand. "Two, please." He informed the man behind the counter, signing the number with his right hand as well.

"Oh no no, please! I have m—" Mary urged, realizing that he was paying for the both of them.

"Nonsense!" Matthew admonished her affectionately, and paid right away. The man with the funny moustache cashed the money Matthew gave him and placed the two sets of rings on the table. Matthew and Mary simply smiled politely at each other, but there was no agreement as to which ring set they each preferred. So it happened that they both went automatically for the same set, their hands inevitably clashing.

Matthew couldn't understand why his body suddenly felt extremely warm, the heat originating from the point where his and Mary's hands were joined. He was not a doctor or scientist, but as they were both wearing gloves there could be no biological explanation for his increased body temperature. It was something else. Mary, on the other hand, could feel her cheeks burning feverishly and she wondered if it was likely that she might have caught a virus suddenly. She wanted to look up to see Matthew's reaction, but there was no telling how her body might react if she were to meet his crystal blue eyes in that moment.

"Mr. Crawley!" A loud voice startled them both, causing their withdrawal of hands. "What a surprise finding you here!" Lucy Richmond cried, approaching them quickly "Oh, and Lady Mary is with you!" She didn't sound very pleased with that discovery.

"What a surprise, yes …" Mary muttered to herself.

"G—good evening Miss Rich— I mean, Lucy." Matthew greeted the young woman politely, still concerned about Mary's wellbeing.

"I thought Mr. Patrick was going to be here as well." Lucy stated, and Mary felt very annoyed at Lucy's nerve in presuming judgment about Mary and Matthew being alone together.

"He is, in fact." Matthew informed her. "He should be right th—" He started to say while turning his head towards the candy stand. "Mary, do you see him?" He asked, trying not to sound alarmed.

Mary craned her neck to have a look through the crowd. "I don't," she confirmed, "and I don't see Annabelle either."

Matthew nodded and quickly turned back to Lucy. "My apologies, Miss Richmond. It looks as though Lady Mary and I can't stay and chat after all."

"You have made quite the stock of that fudge, haven't you?" Patrick remarked when he realized that Annabelle was just behind him. This time he didn't mean to be hurtful in any way; he was just trying to initiate conversation.

"You can make your nasty remarks, you know." Annabelle replied, looking up from her shopping bag. "It's not like Mary is watching you right now."

Patrick exhaled a frustrated sigh. Once again he had tried to be nice, but she had managed to get under his skin. "Whatever!" He responded, determined not to indulge her challenge. "We probably should get back to Matthew and Mary right now. Where are they?"

Annabelle blinked twice before ensuring he was being serious. "What do you mean 'where are they'? I thought you knew! I was following _you_!" She spoke in raised voice.

"But I—I was just walking and thinking! I thought you had your eyes on them when we strayed!"

"You must be joking," Annabelle laughed bitterly. "You live _here, _Patrick! How can you expect _me_ to know the way?!" Patrick jerked his head away from her. "What? You have nothing to say for yourself? Will you admit that I am right, and you are wrong?!" Annabelle egged him on, taking advantage of his nervous silence.

"Aaaargh!" Patrick growled in frustration, turning his back to Annabelle while punching the air with his fists. When he seemed to regain the ability to speak coherently, he turned towards her again, moving threateningly closer. "What I don't understand is how someone _so beautiful_ can say the most _annoying _things!"

"What – _what_ did you just say?" Annabelle stammered, alarmed by Patrick's latest words.

"What do you mea—" Patrick began but then stopped, breathing heavily and realizing just then how close his face was to Annabelle's now. "I—I said that you say the most annoying things…" He whispered, swallowing nervously.

"Not _that ..._" Annabelle cut him short. "The other part, y—you said I am …"

"_Beautiful._" Patrick said breathlessly finishing her sentence. He was surprised to see her pretty round cheeks blushing furiously, and he noticed how rosy and full her lips were as he looked at them very closely. The green of his eyes hesitantly met the impossible blue shade of hers, and maybe it was because she was silent for the first time that Patrick felt the irrational need to plant his lips on hers.

Annabelle was taken aback by Patrick's bold and unexpected action. She froze as she felt his lips on hers and his hands on her cheeks. It was a shock, but that did not mean she did not enjoy it. Patrick's lips were surprisingly soft, and Annabelle closed her eyes to fully enjoy the fuzzy feeling their intimate connection was giving her. She didn't know exactly what to do, given that it was the first time someone had kissed her, so she let Patrick's lips guide her gently. And so she was very disappointed when he broke their kiss abruptly.

Patrick withdrew his face from Annabelle's suddenly, all red and flustered, breathing heavily at the realization of what he had just done.

"Y—You just kissed me!" Annabelle cried in disbelief, sounding slightly polemic.

Patrick straightened up, trying to mask his embarrassment, not willing to let her have any kind of hold on him. "Yes, I—I did. So?!" He replied, trying to sound collected.

Annabelle took a deep breath before formulating her sentence, "Why on earth did you stop?"

* * *

During the following weeks Matthew was pleasantly surprised to notice Annabelle's behaviour improving by the hour. He suspected that the fear of getting lost amid the country fair had inspired her to behave more amiably with cousin Patrick. Matthew still remembered how flustered she looked when he and Mary had found them. The poor darling must have been out of her mind with fear, but luckily she had come upon Patrick. Matthew was confident that their relationship would improve after that, or at least he hoped Annabelle wouldn't easily forget about her experience at the fair. Lately Matthew had found it much harder to decipher what was going on in Annabelle's mind, given that they were not spending much time together. Matthew had been working on several nerve-wracking cases, while Annabelle had been seeing cousin Sybil much more often than usual, and it looked as though the two of them were plotting something. Something that Matthew was sure the Dowager Countess wouldn't approve of. Their scheming and secrecy seemed much more suspicious when Matthew had been told by his mother that she had met the two girls at the Liberal Party's rally in Ripon, accompanied only by Tom Branson, Lord Grantham's chauffeur.

Matthew had vividly expressed his concern to his mother, but Isobel assured him that she wouldn't allow Annabelle near those rallies ever again. Election Day was getting closer and closer, and mother and son agreed that keeping a close eye on Annabelle was the most sensible thing to do. They both knew how little it took for her to become over-excited, and in Sybil she had certainly found the perfect partner in crime. Matthew however could not monitor his first cousin twenty four hours a day, so Isobel had gladly agreed to bear that cross. If they succeeded in decreasing the number of meetings of the two young rebels – and even better, making sure that they were never left alone - there was a real chance to avoid awful consequences that the elections might bring about.

After a few days of managing to keep faith to his and his mother's plan, Matthew found himself buried under piles of legal paper at the firm in Ripon. That week's workload had seemed endless, but finally the weekend was approaching to lift his spirits again. Working as hard as he had been, and also keeping an eye on Annabelle in his spare time, had impeded Matthew from visiting the Abbey as much as he would like. But he was determined to make up for that immediately. He was thinking about picking up Annabelle from Crawley House and casually calling on Mary for tea, if it wasn't too late in the day. For once, he didn't need to cite any particular excuse, given that he hadn't seen his cousins in a while.

"Mr. Crawley," a thick Yorkshire accent called from the corridor, "may I?" She asked near the door.

"O—of course, Beth. Come on in." He invited her, standing up quite clumsily. He wanted to reach for his jacket before the secretary came in, but it was too late.

"Mr. Richmond wanted me to tell you that we're closing up," she informed.

"Closing up?" He asked quizzically, searching for the wristwatch he had abandoned somewhere on the desk. Now the ocean of paper seemed to have swallowed it.

"It's past five pm." Beth informed him with a kind smile.

"Oh, it's later than I had thought."

Beth nodded. "We're closing a bit early today. With all of the commotion in the streets, most of us are worried that we won't catch our trains home," she explained.

"Of course." Matthew agreed. "What is all this fuss about, anyway?"

"It's Election Day, Sir." She answered innocently, sending Matthew's thoughts into overdrive.

Matthew knew it was silly to worry about it so much, but when the elderly secretary had reminded him of the elections, something inside of him set off an alarm, like a sixth sense. Something inside of him told him trouble was in the air, but yet he felt that he must be simply overreacting due to exhaustion. His mother had assured him right before he let that morning that Annabelle would be with her the entire day in Crawley House. Once he had bid a good evening to his colleagues, Matthew ran back to his office and quickly gathered all of his things, but when he looked up at the round clock in the firm's hall, he sighed again. It was well past five thirty and given the commotion in the streets, he could catch the six 'o clock train, at best - consequently cancelling his plans to visit Downton Abbey for tea. He grumbled quite loudly as he exited the building, frustrated that he had missed yet another chance to see Mary.

Matthew scanned the area, trying to make up in his mind which path was more sensible to take to avoid the agitated crowd. But instead of walking straight toward the deserted street which he had spotted, he was distracted by a country motor dropping a group of angry-looking men right in front of the area where the scrutiny was centred. Matthew didn't exactly know why, but he felt the need to check whether Annabelle was actually there, knowing that the group of men who had just arrived weren't going to make things pretty. He headed to the courtyard where they were doing the counting, determined to indulge his folly just to please his nerves. He looked around the crowd and his heart felt extremely light when he didn't see the unmistakable mass of golden hair. However his heart dropped when he spotted another young cousin of his in the crowd, or more precisely, the _youngest_.

"Sybil?" Matthew asked in disbelief as he watched Downton's chauffeur trying to calm one of those angry men. Sensing that wouldn't end well, Matthew decided to make his way through the crowd. He called out to his youngest cousin, begging her to come with him, but she was just about as willing to listen to Matthew as the angry man beside them was willing to listen to Branson. Then in a matter of a few seconds, just as Matthew had almost reached them, the angry man pushed Sybil hard, causing her to fall down. Matthew didn't waste any time in punching the villain in return, and then found that Branson was out of his mind with fear, kneeling down to pick up Sybil's unconscious body from the ground.

* * *

"Mrs. Crawley," Mosley called out from the hall, "Lady Mary is here." He announced, making room for Mary to enter the small drawing room.

After the whole incident in Ripon, Matthew had done the most sensible thing he could think of. Branson had found it impossible to think straight for a single moment, being too distracted by the state of the young lady. So Matthew, half frightened half angered, had ordered him to bring them directly to Crawley House and then immediately collect Mary from the big house.

Matthew was tremendously relieved to hear from his mother that Sybil was going to be fine, that it was just a blow to the head. As Isobel was nursing Sybil's wound, Matthew was glad to realize that Annabelle was already in bed. They did not know if she was already asleep or not, but the last thing they wanted was for her to see her new friend's current state.

"My God!" Mary cried as she came through the door. "My darling!" She said, kneeling down to her unconscious sister, and nearly choking on her words. The scene completely broke Matthew's heart.

"I didn't know what to do, so I had Branson bring her here," he explained.

"Quite right! Mama would've fainted at the sight of this! As for Papa—"

"Matthew, what's going on? Is Mary here?" They all heard, and turned towards the door.

"Annabelle please go back to bed!" Matthew insisted, running to the door to prevent her from seeing Sybil but Annabelle was quicker.

"Oh Sybil dear!" She cried, bringing her delicate hands to her mouth.

"I had no idea she would go there on her own," Matthew thought aloud. "She was lucky I had forgotten it was Election Day, otherwise I wouldn't have stayed."

"I'm so grateful you did," Sybil whispered hoarsely.

"Oh, I could ring Branson's neck!" Mary declared in frustration.

"I'm afraid it will cost him his job," Matthew inserted.

"But I told him I was going to a committee meeting! He didn't want to take me there!"

"Oh no, please!" Annabelle interjected, to bolster Sybil. "It was my idea that Sybil should lie to him! He didn't know where he was taking her!"

"Annabelle!" Isobel cried angrily.

"However it went, you'll have to stick up for him." Mary informed Sybil as she looked up at Annabelle worried. "I'm afraid Papa will skin him alive."

After a little bit of struggle, Isobel and Matthew convinced Annabelle it would be best if she went back to bed. They understood the concern for her friend, but they pointed out that what Sybil needed most was to go home; otherwise, Lord Grantham would arrange a search party. So once Annabelle had bid them a good night, Matthew offered Sybil his arm to help her return to the Abbey.

Mary witnessed their whole exchange in silence, still shaken by her concern for Sybil. But when Matthew had asked her little sister if she was ready to go home, and she had replied with "I think so, if you'll take me," Mary had seen something strange in Sybil's eyes. She had never observed Sybil gazing at Matthew in such a way. As they helped Sybil into the car, Mary kept dwelling on whether she had just imagined Sybil's gazing, but the one thing she knew with certainty was that she had not liked it. Not at all. Branson started the car, still shaking with shock, and Mary found herself seated across from Sybil whose head was on Matthew's shoulder as he wanted to make sure that she was comfortable enough. Mary tried so hard to think about the fact that Sybil could have been seriously hurt that afternoon, but she found her thoughts to be utterly clouded. As much as she wanted to avoid doing so, she couldn't help running possible scenarios in her head. What if Matthew started to be keen on Sybil? Certainly that wouldn't be unlikely at all, since her youngest sister was also blessed with great beauty and charm. Although an upper-middle- class man would not be a desirable option for the first daughter of an Earl, it was likely that he _would_ be so for a youngest daughter. Mary vividly recalled her granny pointing out more than one year ago that Matthew wouldn't be a bad choice for Edith, either. And then of course there was Annabelle. The lovely German cousin Matthew loved so much would certainly be enthusiastic to hear that Matthew was engaged to her newfound best friend. It all fit together like a bloody annoying puzzle.

Mary sighed heavily, trying to stop the river of thoughts haunting her mind. Finally she let out a bitter chuckle, hoping it wasn't noticed by her fellow passengers. _Wasn't this better? _Surely if Matthew was to be wed, and to none other than her favourite sister, then her childish obsession with him was destined to end. Mary was sure she could find it in her heart to be happy for the both of them. It was about time that she stopped dwelling on pointless feelings and returned to her life's primary focus: her marital prospects.

The small party finally arrived at the Abbey, and after she had promised Branson to keep him informed, Mary dived into the predictable fight generated by Sybil's actions. The heated exchange went on for a while, and when Mary realized her support was no longer needed, she remembered that Matthew had had no dinner. She decided to go downstairs to the kitchen and instruct Mrs. Patmore about Sybil's dinner and request some sandwiches for Matthew's empty stomach. When she returned upstairs, she met Patrick halfway and explained to him what had occurred. Together they reached the small library where they had left Matthew, finding him chatting with Robert.

"Here he is!" Patrick greeted him, as Mary simply smiled politely.

"He's definitely the knight in shining armour for the night," Robert stated.

"But is Annabelle alright?" Patrick inquired without thinking twice, sounding very out-of-character to his cousins.

"Was she with Sybil?" Robert asked alarmed. "They've been thick as thieves lately."

"She is alright," Matthew assured them, locking eyes with Mary in complicity. "Mother and I have tried to keep them apart, fearing the coming Election Day. We couldn't have imagined that cousin Sybil would go to the polls alone."

"Of course," Robert reassured him, "and you've done well. We wouldn't have wanted one more injured person." He paused for a moment and then turned to Patrick. "But I recall that you needed the motor for this afternoon, didn't you?"

"Yes, but she—" Patrick stopped, discovering that he had inadvertently taken part in Sybil's scheme. "Sybil begged me to let her use it, and I thought I would take the train to York instead. I'm sorry Robert, I did not realize …"

"Of course you didn't. That's why I think she should apologize to you, as well. Come upstairs with me, and we'll sort this out." Robert instructed, and Matthew noticed Mary rolling her eyes.

"No, really it's not a problem …" Patrick assured.

"I insist!" Robert replied firmly. "I guess we should bid you good night, Matthew. And thank you so much again."

"Of course," Matthew nodded. "And you're very welcome."

"Actually," Mary interrupted the exchange of goodbyes, "I had some sandwiches prepared for Cousin Matthew in the dining room."

"Oh, right. Good idea, darling." Robert praised his daughter.

"Oh – but you shouldn't have!" Matthew replied shyly, not anticipating the kindness.

"We most certainly did!" Mary replied with a sincere smile. "We couldn't let you starve!" She teased affectionately, as Robert and Patrick bid Matthew good night once again.

"Look after him, won't you?" Robert entrusted Mary at last, who nodded quite eagerly.

As much as he had tried to mask it under the stressful circumstances, Matthew had indeed been starving for a while, and that was proven by the speed at which he devoured Mrs. Patmore's sandwiches. Mary sat right beside him and let him eat without saying a word. She had been quite busy admiring his blue eyes under the dim light and memorizing each movement of his perfectly-shaped jaw with each bite. Even if she hadn't been so distracted by his handsome features, she wouldn't have known what to say. She still felt silly and guilty for the thoughts she had during the drive back to the Abbey. She could not believe that she had actually descended to that level of madness, and it was all because of Matthew.

"Would you like some?" He then asked her, forcing her return to the present world.

Mary looked at the wine pitcher and responded, "Alright, let me ring for a glass." But Matthew stopped her, pouring into both the water and wine goblets. After a quick joke about his comical sense of propriety and a toast, Mary decided to push her luck. "You must be careful not to break Sybil's heart." Matthew blinked twice, not quite sure of what she had meant. "I think she has a crush on you," Mary clarified.

Matthew froze for a moment but his eyes never left hers. He wasn't sure of the real meaning behind her words. How could he ever even think about Cousin Sybil, when he was staring at Mary's beautiful face, through those soft lights? Puzzled by the situation, he decided to defend himself with his wit. "Someone with far more experience would see how improper that is, wouldn't she?"

Mary smiled and her eyes did not relent. "Oh I don't know …" she whispered, letting her guard down. Matthew continued gazing powerfully at her, unsure if he had actually heard her latest reply. "She might see it differently than you think." Mary paused for a moment, swallowing hard, "But if she did, she would be _very very _silly, _wouldn't she?_" She finished her sentence feeling completely undone by the intensity of his gaze.

It all took place in a matter of seconds. First he heard himself swallowing loudly, then she saw his eyes moving from her own to her lips. Then an impossible force drew them together. The two opposite poles came together, joined by their lips moving together at the rhythm of their irregular breaths. It was all that Mary had imagined, and much more. Matthew's lips were soft, impossibly soft, and the feeling of his tongue brushing gently from her lower lip to her upper one set Mary on fire. She moved her hands quickly, knowing that she was soon going to go mad if she didn't touch him. Her fingers gently stroked his golden locks while his hands were caressing her face, almost as if he was holding a precious artefact. When her lips finally parted and their tongues met, Mary couldn't help letting out a moan, to which he replied in whispers repeating her name. There was no other way to put it: it was like her lips had been made to kiss Matthew's and Matthew's alone. Any other conceivable action seemed quite pointless in that moment. This was when Mary finally knew that she could no longer conceal the secret from herself: she was in love with Matthew. Head over heels in love... completely, irretrievably. And no matter how hopeless it was, Mary granted herself permission not to think about that until morning.


	9. Secret Liasons

**A/N: **_Thank you so much for all of your continued support through reviews, PMs and tumblr. A special thanks goes to whoever nominated me and this story for the Highclere Awards, if you like go vote for me! _

_Now I leave you with the new chapter finally, but keep in mind it's not proofread yet! I will substitute it with the corrected version when my beta will have time! For now, enjoy!_

**Chapter Nine: Secret Liasons**

Matthew took a bite of his toast after having sipped his tea. It was Ceylon, his personal favourite, and on the toast it was lemon jam, exquisite. The tea was exquisite, the toast was exquisite, the light coming from the window made the dining room look exquisite. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could possibly make that day, and that past week, any less _exquisite_.

As Isobel stepped into the dining room and greeted him cheerfully, Matthew put down his newspaper and grinned a good morning in return.

"Where's Annabelle?" he asked, noticing her absence.

"Getting ready for your day at Downton Abbey, she is coming down in a minute." Isobel informed him, but noticed a quite unusual expression about him. "What is it, my dear? Are you concerned about Annabelle?"

"It's just that – Mother, I know you are really passionate about your campaign against class divide, and I love that you and your sister teach Annabelle to think alike, but – I wouldn't want that – How do I put it – ?"

"What exactly is bothering you about Annabelle's behaviour?"

"It's just that – I can't bring myself to forget about the familiarity with which Annabelle was talking about Branson the other day. I mean – I respect that fellow terribly and I'm happy that she treats him amiably, but – She has just been so … _eager_ to make our trips to the Abbey this days. I don't know, I might be wrong … but as much as you praise her for her generosity, I don't think you would love to see her eloping with Downton Abbey's chauffeur either …"

"My dear …" Isobel replied in a quite appalled tone, "I think your mind is running a little bit too far, don't you think?" she wore an amused look on her face.

"Perhaps you're right, but …"

"Besides," his mother interrupted him, continuing with her speech, " you seemed pretty eager to visit the Abbey yourself these days. You've never made daily visits for a whole week, is there something you would like to tell me?"

Matthew looked up at her, his grin matching hers. "No" he said firmly, "Nothing that I'd like to share." _Not yet,_ he thought sipping his tea.

"I apologise, Mr Crawley. A letter for you has just arrived." their maid announced, handing Matthew the envelope.

Matthew looked at it quickly, curious to know who it was from. "Are you sure it is for me?" He asked puzzled when he read the name of the sender. The maid nodded.

"Why?" Isobel inquired, "Who is it from?"

"It's … Gustav Stresemann, Annabelle's uncle." Matthew said as he took the letter out of the envelope and started to read it.

"Well, what does it say?" his mother asked once again.

Matthew's face went pale. "Oh my God" he whispered, putting the letter away immediately.

* * *

It was a beautiful sunny morning that late may day at Downton Abbey. The bright green grass soaked by droplets of moisture, which extended for miles and miles throughout the estate, was shimmering like a sea of tiny diamonds under the midday sun. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking from the white temple, hidden in such a reserved part of the estate. But to Matthew, the view he had right before his eyes was far more enchanting.

"_Marry me._" he whispered for the hundredth time, placing hot kisses along the curve of Mary's neck. Mary did not answer, but moaned softly at the touch of his lips on her skin. Even though Matthew was holding her from behind, he could feel her smiling. He smiled as well and when she turned her head, leaning it on his chest, he placed his lips in their rightful place. Mary kissed him back instantly, and just as she had multiple times during that week, she deepened their kiss, holding him close to her from the back of his neck. "I'm serious." Matthew replied breathless.

"I know," she smiled sadly, " but my concerns are serious as well."

"My darling, I've told you. I'm willing to fight for you, there is absolutely nothing that I wouldn't do! I will talk to Robert, I'll tell him how much I love you, I—"

The words died in his mouth as Mary caressed his cheek with her hand. Her eyes were full of sadness and longing, two feeling which should never be shared. "Just let me think about it, let me figure it out." she begged him with such an expression that made him catch his breath. "And when the time will come, I want to be the one talking to Papa first. He'd better hear it from me."

Matthew nodded silently, he knew that was the best decision. He would have waited for Mary to tell Robert about them, and _then_ he would have asked him for Mary's hand properly. Despite their obvious difficulties, Matthew wanted nothing more than doing things properly for her because she deserved it. She deserved to have everything she wished and more, and not because she was Lady Mary Crawley, but because she was simply Mary, _his_ Mary (the only thought would send shivers down his spine), she was the woman he loved, the one, the_ only one_.

Mary recognized the frustration in his beautiful blue eyes, it was physically painful to see him like this, but she was glad he seemed to understand. The most painful part however, was knowing the details of her doubts she was omitting. Of course she was concerned about their obvious class differences, but contrary to what her past self would have thought, it was the least of her problems. In her heart Mary knew the ghost of her Turkish lover, Kemal Pamuk, would have never left her thoughts, she knew he would have haunted her forever. But in that which had been the best week of her entire life, Matthew had been somehow able to make her forget about all of that. In that week there had been only Mary and Matthew. His eyes, his lips, his hair, his jaw, his hands, his scent. Diplomats, dinner parties and London society were just so far away from her mind and her heart. But as her love for him grew stronger, and his way more passionate and more loving, the thought of planning a life with him with this big, heavy secret above their heads would fill Mary with great anguish. Whenever he would propose to her, she would see nothing but his valour and kindness, opposed to her lost, tainted soul. It was because she had been blessed with the love such a wonderful man, that she couldn't bring herself to lie to him. No … she would do everything properly for this man, because he was the one, the_ only one_.

"Are you going to tell Annabelle about the letter?" she asked him, easily changing the subject.

Matthew sighed, switching his thoughts onto the source of his torment. "I don't know how to." he whispered, choking on the last words.

Mary couldn't offer any useful suggestion upon such a problematic matter. Instead, she chose to caress his arm fondly, while tightening their embrace. There was nothing Matthew would have asked for more. "I suppose she must begin to suspect where you disappear to every time you both come here." she teased him with a smile, playing affectionately with the buttons of his sleeve.

Matthew chuckled and looked at her with delight, "Strangely enough, she hasn't asked a single question about it. She must have been pretty busy plotting something new with Sybil."

"That's odd," Mary blurted out mindlessly. When Matthew gave her an inquisitorial look, she went on, "Sybil has been very busy with all the planning for her coming out in London this season. I'd be surprised if they even had time to have tea together, just once." she explained.

"Then what has she been doing at Downton Abbey all on her own, for the whole week?" Matthew inquired, more to himself than to Mary, hoping ardently that the suspicions he had had that morning wouldn't be correct.

Through the end of that morning, both Mary and Matthew decided it was best to head back, obviously taking separate paths. The first one to arrive at the front door was Mary. She got and in and after being greeted by Carson, she was caught unexpectedly by her mother who was walking her granny to the door.

"Mary, darling!" the Dowager cried, "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I apologize, Granny. I had no idea that you were gracing us with you presence this morning." Mary justified herself, looking for Cora's help with her eyes.

"It was an unexpected visit indeed," Cora agreed, "But you'll find out we have _plenty _to talk about."

Mary thought for a second about decrypting her mother's look, but her thoughts were interrupted once again by Violet. "The state of you! You have grass on you dress, what could you have possibly been doing, laying on the grass?"

Mary blushed violently, and hoped the colour of her cheeks wouldn't give her away. "I—I was … reading." she said swallowing nervously.

"Reading?" Violet echoed quite amused. "Then where is your book?"

"I—" Mary was mentally cursing herself for her own stupidity, "I already put it back in the library." she lied, and saw Carson flinching with the corner of her eye. He knew that she had lied, and his concern was painted on his face, but he didn't give her away.

"Regardless, my dear" the Dowager cried, "you should really speak with your mother." she warned Mary, and then was escorted outside. Mary turned obediently to her mother, but Cora dismissed her, suggesting that she would go change for luncheon.

* * *

When Mary had come down for lunch, she noticed how Matthew had miraculously found Annabelle in the end, and she bid them goodbye alongside her sisters, reminding them to come for dinner on the same day. Shortly after, a rather pleased-looking Patrick had emerged as well and they had all headed for the dining room, in which the whole family was entertained by Patrick's unusual good mood. There had been a lot of _that_ in the past few weeks, and Mary had felt quite amused at the idea to find out what it was. She meant to have a nice little conversation with her cheerful cousin, but just as they left the dining table, her mother suggested she headed to her bedroom to _'rest'_.

Mary knew pretty well that her Mama's _suggestions_ were nothing less then real orders, as she also knew that she had to expect patiently for a visit.

"Shall I help you change in your afternoon clothes, milady?" Anna said after being summoned in Mary's room.

"Thank you Anna, but it won't be necessary. Lady Grantham will be here any minute, so I wanted to ask you to bring up some tea."

"Of course, m'lady" Anna nodded in reply, bowing down before leaving the room.

As the few minutes that passed before Cora entered the bedroom felt like hours, Mary found herself pondering on the reason of such sudden visit. Cora had scarcely engaged any conversations at all with her eldest daughter ever since she had warned her about the rumour going around London. Mary knew her mother only meant well, and she couldn't bring herself to blame her for putting up a wall between them after all Mary had put her through. That being said however, Mary couldn't help worrying about the timing of this desire to reach out to her.

Hadn't she and Matthew been careful enough, discrete enough? Or worse, what if it had something to do with the late Mr Pamuk? As her heart started pounding loudly for the anticipation, Mary remembered another detail which made her blood run cold : Granny had been the one who had insisted strongly on this meeting. Had her mother told Granny? _How could she?_ No, it was impossible. Her mother would have never in her right mind admitted having helped her that night, and most certainly not to the Dowager Countess. But if it wasn't _that_, than what was it about?

"Oh! You had Anna bring up some tea, how nice!" Cora sang as she entered the room and noticed the tray in front of her. She looked up at Mary carefully, smiling that kind of smile your governess teaches you to pull off whenever you should give bad news.

"What is it, Mama?" Mary asked directly, too annoyed to mask her demand with a charming smile, "Why the sudden need to see me alone?"

Cora breathed heavily and concentrated her eyes on the teapot and the cup, "I only noticed you still haven't started packing your things, and I merely wanted to remind you."

"_Packing?_" Mary echoed her mother with a puzzled look, "Why would I need to pack? Where are we going?"

"To the London Season of course!"

"But I thought this was Sybil's year," Mary cried trying to hide the extent of her passion on the topic. She couldn't possibly go to stay in London for a whole month, _not now_. "With everything that has been going on I – I thought I'd remain in Downton for this year and lift the burden from you and Papa."

"Darling don't be so apologetic, you know your father and I don't mind it."

"_But I_—"

"On the contrary, I think that given _certain situations_ your presence this year is actually fundamental. Sybil is still young, and I'm sure she'll do terribly well, but it is you I want to focus on."

"And what if I don't want you or Papa or Granny to focus on me?"

"It doesn't matter, because we will. Whether you like it or not!" Cora replied with her tone getting more patronizing.

Instead of putting Mary in her place though, it made her even angrier, "Why can't you just let me fend for myself? Why can't you leave me to my misery, to my shame?"

"Because I am your mother, and I wish to see you settled before your little indiscretion ruins your reputation for good!"

"_Oh please_, Mama!" Mary sighed theatrically, "It was a rumour of a month ago! With the season coming, I'm sure the mouths of those silly gossips will be full with stories featuring the new debutantes. No one will care about my story anymore, I'm sure it's long gone!"

"_But it isn't._" the words escaped Cora's lips with a force of their own. Her blue eyes rose for the first time to meet Mary's, showing for the first time the deep concern that inhabited them. Mary opened her mouth to reply, but the horror of such realization killed her words in her throat. "Apparently the rumour came right from the Turkish Embassy. That is why the story it's still alive, why people are giving any credit to it."

"But, _how—_" Mary muttered, unable to put together a single sentence from the myriad of thoughts that traveled her mind. One single thought however, came through, "Does Granny _know_?"

"She is the one who told me all about it," Cora explained, " and I'm sorry Mary – but I simply couldn't keep the secret from her any longer." Mary's eyes left her mother's and went look quickly outside the window, "You see why it is strictly necessary that you do the Season this year and accept the first decent proposal that is offered to you. I wish there was another way for you, but I fear we are wasting time …"

"Why can't I marry Cousin Matthew, then?" the words had escaped Mary's mouth without asking for permission. She felt her heart racing for the fear of having spoken them, but she didn't exactly regret them. Now that the notion was out there … Was it possible that this was in a strange way the solution to all her problems, the answer to all of her prayers?

"_What?_" Cora voiced in disbelief, trying to decipher Mary's expression.

"You heard me." Mary replied as stoic as ever. "If I am in desperate need of a husband, _any_ husband, why can't I marry Cousin Matthew?"

"_Oh dear_," Cora sighed and turned her back on Mary for the frustration, "I was afraid this day would come. I tried to warn you, but – I had no idea we had already reached _this_ point."

"_This point?_" Mary echoed almost in disgust. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"He has proposed to you, _hasn't he?_" Mary looked away instantly and did not reply, "Did you accept him? _Oh Mary_, I wish you hadn't led him on like that … We all got along so well!"

_How could she minimize the deepness of her affection like that? _Mary felt a rush of hurtful words coming up to her mouth, but she decided she was not in the position to speak them. "Has it occurred to you, that I might be _in love_ with him?"

Cora snorted, "And you are willing to give up your current lifestyle to become the wife of modest country solicitor?"

Mary paused but decided to reply even if her voice trembled, "Maybe I am! Maybe I'll find out a modest life suits me after all!"

Cora remained silent for a while and decided to sit down again, massaging her temples for the frustration. "Mary darling, I know how young love, how _first love _feels like. But you are still so young, you don't know your own mind. In time you'll forget how it feels and you'll be able too see it how it is: inappropriate."

"But Matthew is a gentleman, just like Patrick! And I thought all of you loved him!"

"We do, and that is what makes it so hard." Cora offered searching Mary's hand to comfort her, "He is a gentleman, but he's beneath you." Cora bit her lips right after speaking those despicably true words, "If you marry beneath you and in such a hurry, the rumours about you will only grow. Doors in London will be slammed to your face. When people will hear about you marrying a cousin from a very modest background, true love won't be the first thing that will go through their minds. They will think you're getting married to patch things up."

"But isn't this exactly what you want me to do? _Patch things up_?"

"Yes, but marrying someone who shares your upbringing will make it acceptable to society's eyes. If Cousin Matthew really loves you and wants nothing but the best for you, do you really think he'd let you be casted away from your former life, from your friends, only to be with him?"

Mary felt the tears coming fiercely to water her dark eyes, _of course he wouldn't want that_. For as long as she had known her darling Matthew, Mary was sure had never met a gentler man. He was willing to fight for what he wanted, for what _they _both wanted, but he would've surely stepped aside if he knew that was the cost. And to make him aware of _that_ meant telling him about … about _that _night. No it was impossible, she couldn't do it. It was already painful enough she had to give him up, that she had to give up the only thing in her life which had ever made her happy; but if she had to part with him with his contempt, she wouldn't have born it.

"Now please darling, answer me." Cora called her again, stealing her from her thoughts, "Have you accepted him?" she spelled carefully, "Have you told him you love him?"

"No." Mary said in an almost inaudible voice, "I have not accepted him. And he knows I _have_ feelings for him, he just doesn't know the _extent _of them."

"Very well," Cora replied quickly clearing her throat, " this only means you'll have to put him off as gently as you can."

"I don't know if I _can_, Mama." Mary voiced sincerely.

"Then this month away will help to dissipate the flame, if not for him at least for you. Then maybe you'll be able to put this to rest."

Mary pondered for a while on her mother's last words. She did not come down for tea in the afternoon even long after she was gone. One month. Four weeks. Thirty days, more or less. One month away from Matthew. Away from his smile, away from his eyes, his lips, the sweet sound of his voice … away from his touch. Could she bare it? No – it was not a question of _can_, she _had to_. She had to bare it to be away from him; and when she came back, she would have to be strong enough to break his heart. _Could she ever bring herself to do it? _Maybe not, but she would've preferred those eyes looking at her in anger than in disdain.

It was almost time for dinner when Anna came in, punctual for the dressing gong. She tried her best to hide any signs of tears from Mary's porcelain face, and kept comforting her while hearing about all of her troubles. But there was one thing in particular that Anna said that made Mary stir up suddenly. "If only Mr Matthew was in Mr Patrick's shoes!" the young maid had cried in her thick northern accent. The first thing she thought upon hearing those words was how _ironic_ the whole thing was. If Matthew had been the heir instead of Patrick, her parents would have literally locked them into a room until they got together. But even if Mary would have never wished for her cousin Patrick to never have existed, it made her think.

She thought about Patrick still being alone and her mind traveled to the day he was helping Cousin Isobel setting up the flower show. She remembered their little chat, and his promise. Sure, he had talked about five years, but it was implied that he would have married her if she truly was in need of it. Her heart started to beat frantically, almost matching the rhythm of her thoughts. _Could she really do it? _

When she had thought about marriage before, she had never listed _love_ as one of the fundamental parts of the deal, but she had never dwelled on the possibility of actually taking a lover. If she had to be shipped off married to some stranger; it would have been the end of her and Matthew, she would have had to break his heart. But if she married Patrick, the whole thing would have been completely different. If she explained it to him, about her incident with Kemal Pamuk, about her love for Matthew … Patrick would have understood. He loved her like a sister and he loved Matthew like his own brother.

She would have had to explain it to Matthew someway, and surely being together that way wouldn't have been like being man and wife. But any measure of being together would have surely been better than having to forget him, than having to break his heart.

Mary wiped her last tears from her cheeks and stood up fiercely, animated by a new flame. Matthew was willing to fight for her, and so was she. She thanked Anna for her help and dismissed her. It was already time for dinner; but right after it, Mary would have cornered Patrick and told him _everything. _In her heart she knew he wouldn't have failed her.

* * *

Matthew walked into the hall of Downton Abbey that evening feeling incredibly nervous. He tapped his foot on the floor frantically, as one of the footmen helped him getting off his evening coat. This one wasn't a fancy evening, there weren't any illustrious guests, it was just them and the family. But to Matthew, that could have been the night that changed everything.

With the purpose of relieve himself from his own excitement, he turned his head towards his cousin Annabelle. Weirdly enough, she looked very nervous as well. Matthew couldn't figure out why, and he also noticed how particularly beautiful she looked that night. He felt a little guilty by looking at her. She had come all the way from Germany to spend time with him and they had indeed been having a lovely time, but in the past week he had neglected her without even realizing it. The guilt had also grown exponentially when for a moment he thought again about the content of Annabelle's uncle letter. Matthew still hadn't found it in his heart to tell her, and there also hadn't been the right occasion to give her such information.

However, when Annabelle's absentminded gaze met his extremely pensive eyes, Matthew smiled reassuringly and offered her his arm before going into the dining room. As soon as they stepped into the elegant room, Matthew's eyes searched for Mary's instantly, and he found it extremely strange when cousin Cora invited him to sit somewhere different from the usual. He was invited to seat in between Patrick and Edith, and he found himself disliking the new placement because it made it extremely difficult to gaze at Mary. She had not been seated by his side, where it was considered acceptable to turn to have a soft conversation, but she wasn't sitting in front of him either, so the chance of staring at the during the whole dinner had been lost as well. Instead she had been seated at the other side of Patrick, and it felt extremely cruel because he could clearly hear the sweet sound of her voice, but glancing continuously in her direction would have appeared rather improper.

Right before the first course was served though, Matthew gave himself permission to glance at her once, _just once_, and he recognized a level of worry and sadness that alarmed him. Had something bad happened? Had she told her parents about _them_? Was the new seating arrangements a consequence of that? Matthew decided to breathe in and out with regularity, he hardly made any conversation at all and decided to focus exclusively on the courses before him. The only element of relief was hearing Mary's soothing voice making conversation with the others. Just like his, her involvement in the simple dinner talk had been less than usual, but there was a particular line he overheard that made him suspicious.

"Patrick," Mary whispered turning her head elegantly in his dark haired cousin's direction, " Can I— can I speak to you alone for a moment after dinner?"

Patrick initially frowned at the odd request, but he almost instantly pulled off one of his cheerful smiles, "Of course! There's something I ought to tell you as well!"

"Yes, but— this is truly important. I wouldn't ask you if—"

"I guess it's time for us ladies to leave the gentlemen to their cigars." Cora intervened, interrupting any other conversation. She stood up first, and was quickly followed by Isobel and the girls, and they all waited for Carson to help Violet up as well. As they were almost on the door, Matthew noticed Mary shooting lingering glances in Patrick's direction, and this odd scene was unexpectedly interrupted by Patrick's trembling gasp:

"Wait!" he called and stood up quickly and awkwardly from his seat.

"Everything alright, my dear chap?" Robert asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

Mary flinched as Patrick took several deep breaths and began to walk briskly in her direction. She had no idea of what had gotten into him. Yes, she had asked him to a have word with her afterwards, but she thought discretion was implied. Her puzzled look however, became incredibly baffled when instead of stopping, Patrick walked past her to reach Matthew's cousin Annabelle, grabbing her hand.

"Annabelle and I have something to tell you." He declared raising his chin and leading the lady beside him at the centre of the room. The silence that followed was both embarrassing and astonishing. Everyone of the family was left with their mouths open at the information that simple gestured implied. But no one seemed more baffled that Matthew, who taught that Patrick holding Annabelle's hand tenderly was the last thing on earth he would have ever seen. "I know it may sound strange to you," Patrick continued.

"_Strange?_" Violet echoed with an amused chuckle, "I feel like we've all stepped through the looking glass!"

Patrick laughed nervously, "Thank you Cousin Violet," he said clearing his throat, " the truth is that Annabelle and I have realized in the past few weeks that our incessant bickering in the past was only something to mask the true way we felt about each other." he explained and glanced at Annabelle who was smiling beside him.

Matthew took a moment to process the whole thing and glanced at the Crawley women at the other side of the room. Violet and Cora looked baffled, Sybil looked extremely pleased and Edith looked like she was in the verge of tears. What really troubled Matthew though, was the enigmatic expression he read on Mary's face. She neither looked pleased like Sybil or sad like Edith, but there was a hint of something … horror, _fear_ perhaps, that worried him deeply.

"That is why I wanted to tell all of you gathered here, that I've asked Annabelle to become my wife today, and she made me the happiest man on earth when she accepted."

There were applauses, congratulations and numerous glasses of fine champagne brought in the room in a hurry from Carson. After the shock trailed off and the information settled in his mind properly, Matthew realized he was incredibly happy. All he had been able to focus on for the past week was he and Mary, but now that he knew Annabelle was alright (that she wasn't running away with the chauffeur) he felt incredibly relieved. And then there was Patrick. One look at his face in that moment was enough to know he was truly happy, and Matthew couldn't have wanted more. When the ladies left the dining room, Robert handed them some Porto and cigars, and talked for over twenty minutes about married life and how to be a honourable husband. Matthew smiled silently throughout the whole exchange, but while he noticed Patrick's overwhelmed expression, he took in all of Robert's advices like they were meant for him. He noticed the Earl of Grantham didn't look at all angry with him, so he assumed he couldn't possibly know about him and Mary. Watching the man talking so enthusiastically, declaring both of the younger men were surely going to become impeccable husbands; Matthew knew that if he told Robert everything he wouldn't have objected in the end. But he had made a promise to Mary, and as Robert himself had suggested that evening , _one must always stand by you promises_.

"Wow, I'm finally able to speak to you alone!" Patrick cried loosening his collar, as he had finally reached Matthew on his own in the gleeful drawing room.

Matthew smiled and patted his cousin's shoulder affectionately, "If I haven't said it enough, congratulations my dear chap!"

"Thank you," Patrick murmured, unable to control his smile, "I actually meant to come to you first as a … male representation of Annabelle's family, but I thought it was best to tell you all at once. I know it is entirely my affair, but whoever I marry will in the end become the queen of this County and I thought—"

"Say no more, I fully understand." Matthew put him out of his misery, "And for what it's worth, I gave my full consent, and happily so!"

"Oh thank you, Matthew!" Patrick cried relieved, "Thank you so much! I hope you will soon be as happy as I am right now!" he said innocently as his gaze traveled throughout the room to find his fiancé.

Matthew followed his lead and took the chance to look for Mary with his eyes and that was when he noticed she was no longer in the room. Worry and anxiety immediately filled his heart, and he instantly started to make up excuses in his mind to leave the room at once, but Patrick's next words glued his feet to the ground.

"We were actually thinking of traveling to Germany together, so that I can ask her hand properly to her parents. Annabelle tells me she still hasn't received any instructions on when to make her crossing, so I'm sure we'll be able to arrange it smoothly …" Matthew's face went pale instantly, so pale that even someone absent-minded like Patrick couldn't help noticing, "Matthew, is something wrong?"

Matthew swallowed nervously, but he realized there was no point in keeping the information to himself, "I got a letter from Annabelle's uncle today," he began clearing his throat, "the politician." he clarified. "It seems things aren't looking good at all between our two countries. Apparently they are still retaining the information from the population because they don't want to alarm them. But he believes traveling from here to there isn't quite safe anymore. They don't know at what rate things might evolve, so they don't want to risk Annabelle being taken as a prisoner, or worse …"

"Oh my God!" Patrick cried in a hiss, "Does this mean that we are in danger of a w—"

"Don't speak the words, I surely hope it won't go that far … But there's more," Matthew continued claiming Patrick's attention once again, "Mr Stresemann suggests we end any sorts of communication between us, that Annabelle ends any sorts of communication with them as well. If things … _evolve_, they don't want them to think she's a spy working for the German government."

"But even if we end any communication with them, will she really be safe? Won't they come looking for her?"

"When the time comes … _if _the time comes, we will have to declare her presence here reassuring the authorities that she is harmless and under our protection. I'm sure that with Robert's intercession she won't have to fear a thing. It will of course be very hard on her, being separated from her own family, from her own Country."

It wasn't easy to remain completely cheerful after that revelation, even for Patrick. But the two young men decided they were not going to spoil Annabelle's night. They agreed they were going to tell her together on the next day. It was going to be terribly hard, but she deserved to know.

When Robert and Cora kidnapped Patrick to talk again about marriage and duty, Matthew saw the opportunity to excuse himself out of the drawing room. When he was outside, he mentally kicked himself because he actually had no idea at all of where Mary might have been. He didn't even know if she was in a place he was allowed to reach her. He stomped the foot on the floor neurotically and decided to head to the library as a place to start looking. But as he almost set foot inside the big solid wood door, he got a glimpse of Mary's maid Anna popping out of the service door.

Anna recognized him as well and as their eyes met, she shook her head visibly. As Matthew drew back his foot from the library's entrance, Anna smiled and looked at the front door nonchalantly. Before Matthew could question her with his gaze anymore, she turned her back to him and proceeded to bring upstairs what Matthew assumed to be Mary's clean night clothes. He couldn't be sure of the maid's good intentions, but Mary always spoke so highly of Anna, so Matthew decided to head out of the front door hoping for the best.

Seeing as summer was now fast approaching and the evenings were not so dark and gloomy anymore, it didn't take Matthew too long to recognize Mary's figure standing on the right of the front door. She seemed to gaze at the horizon absent-mindedly but when Matthew got closer, he noticed her eyes were full of tears and her breathing was severely affected by her sobs.

"Mary, my darling, has something happened?" he cried, trying to modulate the anxiety in his voice, as he came closer to her, laying his arms around her protectively.

"It's all ruined!" she muttered incomprehensibly through her sobs. "Now that he's going to be married it's all ruined for me, for u—"

"I—" Matthew interrupted her suddenly, not sure at all of how he should have felt about her last sentence, "I thought you didn't have any feelings for Patrick …"

"Of course I don't!" Mary replied, feeling exasperated and slightly offended by Matthew's allegations, "How can you even think that?!"

"Then why would you be bothered with his and Annabelle's engagement?"

Mary sighed desperately; she had had enough heartbreak for one day, she didn't have the strength to explain herself to Matthew, she simply _couldn't_ do it. "You don't understand, you _can't _understand!"

"But that's what I am trying to do!" Matthew replied breathlessly, "Please don't cry, my love! Please!" he begged her, trying to make her look him in his eyes, "It will be alright, I am here! Tell me what's wrong, I promise I—"

"There you are son!" Isobel cried once on the doorstep, "I've been looking for you everywhere!" she cried as Matthew straightened up and Mary managed to hide any sign of tears as much as she could. Before Matthew could speak, Violet appeared beside his mother.

"Oh Mary, I find it so peculiar that you would prefer the stuffiness of this early summer night to the coolness of the rooms inside!"

"You know me granny," Mary replied bitterly, "I just love to be contrary." she finished and after one last look at a baffled Matthew she wished the old ladies goodnight and paraded back inside.

"So Cousin Matthew," Violet continued, startling him from his hazed state. " Do you enjoy finding yourself into a situation from which you shall never ever profit as well?"

* * *

Matthew came back to Downton Abbey the next day to try and talk with Mary about whatever had troubled her so deeply on the night before, but all he had gotten was a brief and polite conversation over tea under the supervision of Lady Grantham. Mary hadn't been the only one behaving strangely the next few days, in fact her mother had been much more careful than usual to Matthew's whereabouts, making sure he and Mary were never left alone even for a second.

He had heard eventually from his cousin Annabelle that they were all busy getting ready for the London Season, as they had invited Annabelle to spend the whole month in London with them. Matthew was sincerely puzzled by the whole situation, and when his assistant at firm in Ripon announced Lady Grantham was coming to see him, he thought he was finally going to get his answers. However, the Lady Grantham who walked in his office was not at all the one he was expecting.

"C—cousin Violet! I was not expecting to see you—" Matthew muttered awkwardly, still by baffled by the presence of such an elegant lady in his very modest office.

"Don't bother, Cousin Matthew! I'm throughly aware that my daughter-in-law is far more pleasing by the eye!" As Matthew tried to apologize for his clumsiness, the Dowager gave very little importance to pleasantries and went straight to the point. "I'm here to see you for a matter of the Law which my dear son has chosen to ignore in the past twenty years."

She told him about the existence of this mythological 'entail', which prevented Robert's title to be detached from the property of the Downton estate. Apparently Violet's late husband had tight the knot very strongly not to let Cora's money slip away. What he had never imagined was that Robert would have never had any sons, hence everything from the title to the Abbey was to be passed on to Patrick.

"What I am asking is for you to find a loophole that will let Patrick, and your lovely cousin of course, inherit the earldom; while the estate and Cora's money would be passed on to our Mary."

Cousin Violet had surely hit a sore note by forcing him to be torn between the two best friends he ever had and the girl he was in love with. But this was not a matter of love, there was trust and honour involved.

"Cousin Violet, surely you wouldn't want to put me in the position to choose between two of my beloved cousins … Whoever I'll choose, the other is bound to be eagerly disappointed, and I couldn't possibly wish that."

"But it's not like your cousins are both on the same level, is it? If Patrick looses Downton he will still have his father's house in London and the huge amount of money he's making in his investment, and with your generous help I might add … While our darling Mary without Downton has nothing besides herself and her great charms."

"You make a very good point," Matthew spelled carefully taking a deep breath, "but I still think it won't be very nice to make the research behind Patrick's back."

Violet did not reply right away, but as her intelligent blue eyes met Matthew's, she smiled one of her winning smiles and simply put, "Maybe I haven't fully explained myself," she began weighting each and every word, "but if _our _Mary gets Downton she will be a heiress, which can only have one consequence: she'll be able to marry _whoever_ she wants."


	10. Welcome Back Home

**A/N:**_ Yay, I'm back! I'm not dead, I've just been really busy lately! I want to thank everyone for their continued support during this long hiatus and reassure everyone that when I start a story, I usually tend to finish it. So don't worry, there won't be any bad comment to change my mind on the matter, and I am mentally preparing myself because, just as I warned/promised you drama is coming!_

_Only one thing to point out before you read: longest chapter ever!_

**Chapter Ten: Welcome Back Home**

Matthew tapped his foot furiously on the ground as the landscape passed by fast, outside the window of his first class carriage. He knew this was the day the Crawleys were due back, and this meant that after a whole month he would be able to see Mary again.

He had dreamed about this moment for so long and it was quite strange to realize that, now that it was so close, he was actually dreading it. Of course it had absolutely nothing to do with Mary, for the simple thought of being around her again was enough to warm his lonely heart, but there was still the fresh burn of his failure that made it absolutely frustrating to face her and her family.

Matthew had looked everywhere for a disillusioned sign of hope, but every decent source seemed to tell him exactly the same thing. There was absolutely no way for him to break the entail in favour of Mary, because to do so they would have needed a private bill in Parliament, which would have passed only if the estate was to be declared in danger, and that wasn't the case at all since there wasn't only one, but _two_ possible heirs alive and healthy. This certainly put Matthew's conscience at ease when it came to Patrick, but that didn't make him feel any better.

Matthew didn't know whether Mary was behind this entail business as well, but even if she wasn't he felt obliged to share the last bit of detail he had with her, even if it had proven to be a disappointment. If that could have been one possible way for them to convince her family to champion their union, than they just needed to find something else. He had meant to tell those reassuring words to her in person when he had gone up to London for Sybil's debutante ball, but his boss hadn't allowed him to be away for more than one day and Mary had been more elusive than ever during the event itself.

Now that he thought about it, that had been one _strange_ night. After a rather formal greeting in front of her whole family, Mary had excused herself accusing an impossibly strong headache. Matthew couldn't find it in his heart to suspect anything of it, but she hadn't been the only one behaving strangely. He had had the strangest feeling that Lady Grantham's and the Dowager Countess' eyes were on him the whole evening, but the looks on their faces did not bare the usual suspiciousness he had recognised whenever he walked the halls of Downton Abbey searching for Mary, no … This time they bore some kind of … _sadness_ Matthew wasn't able to decipher. However what had left him truly wondering on his way back to Ripon the next day, had been the strange way not only Patrick, but also Annabelle had been behaving around him. He had literally felt like a terminal patient whose loved ones were not able to tell him how many days he had left.

But Matthew's good natured character had led him not to put too much weight on the matter, and he had carried on the following days with his usual composure and the now familiar ache that was missing his beloved Mary every day.

By the time Matthew got home that night it was obviously too late. Annabelle had just made her return as well and she was so tired it suggested it wouldn't have been proper to make an after dinner call at the Abbey. Matthew sighed loudly for the frustration of having to wait yet another day but he accepted it with his usual grace, thinking that maybe a good night sleep would have provided the right amount of strength to face the forthcoming day. He had decided he simply couldn't wait any longer, and since Patrick and Annabelle were announcing publicly their engagement at the Garden Party in two days, Matthew thought with a small grin on his face how marvellous it might have been to announce two wedding on the same day. He knew that with that thought he would have fallen asleep with a huge smile on his face, but as he popped his head into Annabelle's room to bid a cheerful goodnight, he noticed his graceful cousin did not look gleeful at all. Matthew wondered whether a fight with her fiancé had brought her spirits so down, but as she bid him goodnight as well with a fabricated smile, Matthew thought it best not to interfere at least for one more night. _Everything will look better in the morning_, his father used to say. And how could it not be, when he was going to see Mary again?

* * *

The following morning Annabelle's mood seemed to be slightly improved. Matthew was glad to see her smile was sincere, but he also noticed she hadn't said much since she had greeted everyone at breakfast. It was the day before the Garden Party and all of Crawley House's inhabitants had been invited to lunch at the Abbey, where they would have spent the whole they in Lord Grantham's family's company before the huge amount of guests that was going to invade Downton's grounds the next day.

A note on the morning post had informed them that a car would have been sent to collect them right before luncheon but in an uncharacteristic break of her silence, Annabelle had suggested Matthew and her would walk together to grounds instead, since the occasions to spend some time together had been rather few lately. Matthew was naturally glad of it, but as they left the village behind them and started to walk into the Downton's grounds, the silence that had accompanied them since they had left the house had started to pound louder than any words in Matthew's head. He thought about saying something, anything … but as the shape of the imposing towers of Downton Abbey started to peep out of the horizon it was Annabelle that, after a long sigh, stopped and cried:

"I can't do this anymore!"

"Annabelle darling, are you quite alright?" Matthew asked right away, stopping as well and searching her eyes with _his_ eyes, without being able to meet them.

"I know I promised Patrick that we would tell you together, but I can't let you walk in there without knowing, I can't … It's not right!"

Matthew was puzzled by Annabelle's cryptic words, and as he silently watched her profile gazing painfully at the Abbey, an anxious thought crossed his mind, "Is everything alright between you and Patrick? Do you … need to _forestall_ the wedding?" then as soon as he asked her, Matthew realized it perhaps wasn't something a girl wanted to discuss with her cousin, "You know you can talk to me about everything, I won't judge you_ or_ Patrick for it, I—"

Matthew's affectionate speech was interrupted abruptly by Annabelle's bitter laugh, "Of course not! I mean – this is not about Patrick and me!" she cried exasperated and for the first time her blue eyes met the slightly bluer ones of her cousin. Matthew was not prepared for the fear and sadness that he saw in them. What he couldn't be prepared at all however, was what Annabelle revealed him next. Her tears, her steps closer and her hand gently taking his, seemed mechanic, emotionless movements as she said: "Mary is engaged."

"What?" the word escaped his mouth in a strangled cry. For a moment, Matthew didn't feel like he was living inside of his own body anymore. He felt as if he were a stranger miles away from the two people gazing at each other so still. He did not recognise them, no … he_ couldn't. _For if he was Matthew Crawley and she was Annabelle Stresemann, if the castle beside them was Downton Abbey, then there was absolutely no way that Lady Mary Crawley was engaged.

"The man is a certain Duke of Crowborough." Annabelle went on to explain, "Cousin Cora explained to me that he was a guest here at the Abbey over a year ago, before I came to stay. She says he was struck by Mary's beauty but didn't think she was much too keen on him, so he gave up on her. But he was never really able to forget about her, so when they met again at Lady Imogen Martin's ball, he proposed." Annabelle noticed he was being awfully quiet, so she decided to go on saying something, not to let her nerves overtake her, "Patrick told he wasn't here during his stay, so he couldn't really tell me anymore about it, but Matthew I—" she was about to offer him the best words of concerns that her knowledge of the english language could give her, but she was suddenly interrupted but the scary awful sound that escaped Matthew's mouth. She had been so focused on giving him every detail possible that she hadn't realized what a hollow expression was now painted on her cousin's blue eyes. It was almost as if there was no soul in them. It took her a few endless seconds, but Annabelle understood that the awful sound she had heard was a laugh. Matthew had bursted into the most horrid and bitter laugh Annabelle had ever heard. They stood in front of each other for a few minutes and he didn't seem to be able to stop. "Say something, please!" Annabelle begged him, but it only made Matthew laugh even harder. "Matthew, stop it! You are scaring me!" she yelled hoping to shake him from his trance, but it didn't work. So she decided to grab his arm, hoping that their physical contact would somehow make him quit his spasms and his laughter. " If this is too much for you we don't have to go inside. We can go back to Crawley House, I—I will explain everything to Patrick, I'm sure he will figure out what to tell Robert." it was after the last sentence of her monologue that the laughter stopped.

"Don't be ridiculous, Annabelle!" Matthew scolded her in an ice-cold tone Annabelle had never heard coming from his mouth. "My cousins and your fiancé are expecting us, we shouldn't make them wait."

* * *

"Good morning, Patrick! You are just in time for tea!" Cora greeted the dark haired cousin as he stepped into the drawing room. As she took a seat beside the Dowager Countess, she looked more cheerful than ever.

"Good morning, Cousin Cora." Patrick replied politely, "Cousin Violet." he obliged as he took a seat himself. "I'm afraid I must have overslept, I was very tired from the journey! Where is everyone? You seem to be the first one I've come across all morning!"

"Well," Cora began to explain, pouring the hot water into her teacup, "Sybil and Edith had to run off to Ripon to get their frock resized for tomorrow, Robert had an errand to run by the cottages but he should be here any minute, and Mary … honestly I don't know where she is." she finished with a tiny bit of frustration, "Anyway I hope she turns up as soon as possible, we are supposed to be choosing her outfit for tomorrow."

As much as Patrick would have _loved_ to venture into the topic of women's clothing and etiquette, he had to step aside when Carson came into the room and announced clearing his throat, "Mr Crawley and Miss Stresemann, _milady_." Patrick stood up immediately as the two guests entered the room and a huge grin appeared on his face. He was glad to see Matthew of course, but he didn't think there would ever be one time when his heart wouldn't flutter at the sight of his beautiful fiancé.

"My darling, we were not expecting you for another hour at least!" Patrick expressed his surprise, without bothering to hide his glee.

"Matthew and I decided to go for a walk." as Annabelle explained in such a feeble voice, Patrick noticed how unusually quiet Matthew had been and he meant to ask the both of them if something wasn't right, but Cora anticipated him.

"Oh but please Matthew, and Annabelle darling … take a seat and have tea with us!"

Annabelle looked up at her cousin and saw him nodding quietly after having landed his ice-cold eyes on the two older women. She turned her head to face Patrick's puzzled look and said, "Actually darling, I was wondering if I might have a word with you in private …"

Patrick tried to hide his worry as best as he could and replied instantly, "Of course! Let's have a walk on the grounds!" he rose from his seat to reach for his fiancé, but before their hands touched Cora intervened once again.

"Wait a minute, you can't go on a walk unchaperoned!" she protested in her high-pitched voice, " I shan't listen to your conversation, but I must come to keep an eye on you!" the countess stated, standing up on her own two feet. "Mama you don't mind, do you?" she turned to ask Violet, "It is only until Robert gets back."

"Don't worry dear," Violet reassured her, " it's not as if you leave me all by myself. I'll have our Matthew to keep me company, won't I?"

"Of course." Matthew replied firmly under everyone's eyes, even if only Annabelle noticed him clenching his jaw.

However when the trio left the room and they were left alone, Matthew didn't seem so interested in keeping company to the old lady as he had promised. He poured his hot water and filtered the tea leaves, all without giving as much as one look in Violet's direction.

"Please Cousin Matthew," she began with proud tone, "since it is clear you are _dying_ to say something to me, I suggest you just go on and do it."

"Oh, I don't know …" Matthew replied instantly, his voice filled with venom, trying so hard not to loose his patience, " it seems to me you would have much more _interesting news_ to share!"

"So you've heard about Mary and the Duke." Violet stated and looked away, suggesting it was exactly as she had feared.

"You might tell me the same fairytale you told my cousin, but I was there … And I have to say, it seems rather peculiar that your granddaughter is marrying a man that the only time he ever was here, he seemed more interested in the footman rather than her graces." Matthew knew very well he was probably overstepping several rules of society by talking badly of a Duke with a Countess, but in that moment there was nothing left for him to care about propriety. It was propriety in the end that had brought him to this point.

"My dear boy, I understand how you must feel about the situation, but don't expect me to be a part of such allegations …"

"Cousin Violet, do you really want to know what I find most amusing regarding all of it?" Matthew went on, not caring about Violet's words of comfort, "I told myself there was absolutely nothing a man like the Duke would want from Mary, apart concealing his shame but then I remembered … It is funny how all of the time I was trying to find a way to break the entail, torn between a romantic hope and the fear of betraying Patrick's trust … all this time I was only helping you snatching a proposal from his grace! I don't think I can say that I'm sorry that it all went into a dead end!"

"Now stop right there, young man!" Violet snapped, horrified by Matthew's accusations, "I know how it all must look, and that you must feel betrayed … but you must know that my intentions the day that I came to visit you were pure. I'm willing to go great lengths for what I want, I'm sure your mother will have plenty to say about that … but I will never, _never _try to play with someone's feelings for my own benefit. It's hardly my fault if the Duke decided to propose out of the blue, and I know it mustn't be as clear to your kind of people, but you simply _cannot_ put off a _duke_ … especially in Mary's situation."

"What do you mean, _especially in Mary's situation?_"

"Here I am!" Cora announced stepping back into the room, "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mama. Robert has just got back and he's keeping an eye on the lovebirds." She said with such such glee, it twisted Matthew's guts. "Oh and … Matthew, you'll be glad to hear Branson has just left to collect your mother for luncheon."

"Actually Cousin Cora," Matthew replied unexpectedly inspiring Violet's curiosity as he stood up from his seat, " I'm afraid I have a bit of a headache … you wouldn't mind it if I skipped luncheon, wouldn't you?"

"But …" Cora tried to debate as Violet remained stunned but how naïve her daughter-in-law was, "I'm sure Mrs Patmore can prepare something to soothe your pain … and your mother is coming here soon, she will have some tricks up her sleeves for sure!"

"Honestly I think that probably all that I need is some sleep, I've been overworking myself this past month." Matthew justified himself while Cora's expression showed how she was still determined to insist. "Besides, I wouldn't want to feel less than perfect for tomorrow's occasion."

"Let it go Cora," Violet interjected with her unmistakable annoyed tone, " even I can see that the boy is pale!" she declared, and by the look on her face Matthew knew she would have the last word on the matter. Right before he left the light drawing room, Matthew turned once again to see the hopeful look on the old woman's face. He knew she had intervened to help him, but the bitterness he felt so rooted in his heart at the moment, prevented him from showing any kind of gratitude to the gesture that had saved him from a very painful luncheon.

Matthew knew he was being childish. It wasn't likely that a grown man would ditch a social outing because of a heartbreak, even more so a proper englishman like he was. But Matthew at never felt this way. He had never felt the way he had a month ago either, but the warmth of Mary's body against his, her beautiful pale skin smelling like peaches, the sweet taste of her lips had clouded his judgement. In that marvellous week, Matthew had never really realized how his will was slowly slipping away by each kiss, but now that his love for Mary was breaking his heart into millions of tiny pieces, it was all painfully clear. He wasn't the man he used to be, he couldn't recognised himself. He had always been able to control himself. Modesty and moderation had always been the pillars of his personal code of conduct, but as he felt the adrenaline running through his veins faster and faster at each step towards the front door, he had the strangest feeling that he could have done something really stupid if he dared staying at the Abbey one minute longer.

When he finally stepped outside accompanied by Carson's pleasantries, Matthew gave a good look around to spot Annabelle. He meant to inform her of his return to the house and run away before she could even respond, but as his eyes travelled through the grounds they landed on a lonely, melancholic figure sitting at a bench all by herself.

"Matthew, dear chap!" a loud and proud voice startled him and he felt his heart beating again after he had stopped so suddenly.

"Good morning Robert," Matthew replied kindly, trying to force a smile on his lips. Beside Mary and Patrick, Robert was perhaps the next Crawley in line to Matthew's heart. Ever since the Earl had invited him to come and live in Downton, they had developed a sincere friendship which had evolved in something much deeper as Matthew loved to think the man had started to consider him the son he never had, just as he had began to see him as the father he had lost when he was young. But as a part of him wanted to seek comfort and guidance in him, the other part simply could not forgive him for having given his daughter away to someone barely because of his social status. Matthew found it really hard to understand this unexpected turn of events, but as he spotted a certain kind of sadness in the Earl's eyes, he had to remind himself that daydreaming hadn't really brought him anywhere.

"Have you heard the news?" Robert ventured cautiously with a tremble in his voice that made Matthew hopeful and sad at the same time. He did not speak a word but simply nodded in silence and shared a look with the man. "My wife urged me to give my consent, but – I don't know – maybe I'm getting old but I thought … never mind—I shouldn't bother you with this."

_Oh Robert, I thought so too … _He wanted to say, but there was no reason to make things awkward especially now that it was useless anyway. The subject of their conversation changed quickly and when Matthew finally spotted Annabelle and Patrick, he managed to excuse himself.

"But—" Annabelle protested in between Matthew's apology for leaving so abruptly, "Mrs Bird and Claire are coming to the Abbey as well with Aunt Isobel to help setting up the Garden Party, you'll be completely alone!"

"It's alright," Matthew reassured her, " I'm sure there will be something edible in the kitchen, and if there isn't I'll make a quick trip to the bakery. I'll be fine, really." _I just need to be alone_, Matthew begged her with his eyes, hoping he wouldn't need to step on his dignity even more than he already had.

He took a deep breath and slowly began to walk through the immense expanse of grass surrounding the imposing castle behind his back. Matthew was fully aware that the three pair of eyes he had just left, had inevitably landed on him as he had started to walk away. He knew their hearts had probably started to beat faster as his own as he had almost reached the Sycamore tree and that cursed bench. Matthew knew that very well, so as he found himself nearby he decided to walk past the three on its right, so that he wouldn't face the bench directly.

But as everything worked out the way he had planned it, he hadn't really taken into account that the lone figure sitting on the bench could spot him in the distance, once he had passed the three. It was a silly mistake, because Mary could have recognised his broad shoulders and his golden locks shining in the daylight everywhere.

"Matthew!" he heard her call desperately and his aching heart broke all over again. He wanted to punch himself for it didn't matter how angry and disappointed he was, all he wanted to do in that moment was to held her. Held her and soothe her pain away, so he wouldn't have to hear the desperation in her voice ever again. But even if her voice felt like the alluring call of a siren, Matthew had still some dignity left. He couldn't help turning his head (as an automatic gesture), but he promised himself he was not going to go near her.

"Matthew please, I need to speak with you!" she cried again, and this time Matthew could see actual tears on her cheeks. His brain gave the order to his legs to move as fast as possible but they were almost paralyzed, glued to the ground as his eyes followed her coming closer and closed to him with horror. "Please let me explain!" she begged him once more when she realized he was in a bit of a trance. "It's not how it seems!" Mary went on with her argument while Matthew seemed unable to move.

"I'm sorry," he spoke suddenly, his voice perplexed. "Aren't you marrying the Duke of Crowborough?" Matthew asked politely and matter-of-factly, trying so hard not to flinch. When he received no answer he went on, "See? It is _exactly_ how it seems."

Mary swallowed her own pride for his cold, emotionless stare was far too painful to let herself snap at him, like she would have done with anybody else. _Better have his anger than his contempt, _Mary sang in his head like she had for the past two weeks as a litany. "I swear I didn't _want_ to accept him, but I _had_ to—"

"But _why_, Mary? _Why_?!" Matthew snapped, releasing his frustration for the first time.

"I … I cannot tell you." Mary replied with a feeble voice, aware of how pathetic she must have sounded.

"That's very convenient!" Matthew argued with the same arrogance that had always got him in trouble when he was a young boy, "I'm really trying to understand your actions Mary, I really am … but I simply _cannot_. Unless … _well_, unless I have completely misunderstood your character. Maybe I never really mattered that much to you … I was just a distraction before some real offer would come up."

"Don't … _say that_." Mary whispered, trying hard to fight the tears coming to her eyes. She had always felt like she could be herself in Matthew's company, but this time she had no intention to show him how broken she really was. "Not after what happened between us … you were there with me, you know _how much_ _I l—" _

"Please Mary," Matthew interrupted her and she could see how painful it was for him to do so, "don't speak words you don't understand." Mary opened her mouth to protest, but he was faster, "I never pretended to fully understand how your world works, but in mine _words_ have a _meaning _and _actions_ their _consequences_. I think your actions have spoken quite loudly. I have _always _meant what I said to you but you chose to go in another direction, so I would be really glad if you decided to leave me alone to my misery."

"_I'm sorry!_" she cried and this time her strength was not enough to fight her own tears. He tried to turn around and leave, but Mary followed him and grabbed his hand.

"_Don't._" Matthew whispered staring at her slender fingers trying to intertwine with his. "Please, don't." he begged and the lonely tear on his cheek shimmering in the sunlight was the last thing Mary saw before he turned around and left for good.

She was left there, under the burning sun, to witness the consequences of her own doing. The fateful night she had given in to Kemal's advances she had had no idea of what she was about to give up with that silly indiscretion. It was because of _that_ _night_ and the shame that came with it, that she hadn't been able to accept Matthew. Yet, it was also because of that night that she had come to understand more and more what her attraction towards her blonde cousin meant. The memory of her encounter with Pamuk now was mostly blurry, but Mary could remember exactly how she hadn't quite understood what had taken place between them. And it was ironic, because by each kiss, by each touch she and Matthew had exchanged, she had got the picture clearer and clearer. She had started to match her urges with the way to fulfil them and she had dreamt about it constantly, only now … now it was all over. The man she loved was walking away from her, and she was going to share her bed, _really share her bed_, with a man who barely looked at her.

When Matthew's tiny figure in the distance disappeared from the landscape in front of her, Mary bit her lower lip so hard until she tasted her own blood. The strength of her sobs had intensified so much her legs ceased on her, and she found herself crying uncontrollably over the wet grass. But her sobs quickly turned into a bitter laughter. Yes, Mary was laughing because everything was absolutely ridiculous.

She didn't know exactly what her Mama or Granny or Anna thought about her night with Pamuk, but Mary was still concealing one secret. Despite the fact that he had probably ruined her life for good because of his ignorance of his forthcoming death, Kemal had kept true to his promise. He had kissed her in ways no one ever had, he had touched her and made her feel in ways she had hardly ever imagined, but he had never been inside of her. Mary had never told this to anyone who knew her secret, and she had let their imaginations run wild because … _well_, because to them it wouldn't have made any difference. To Mary on the other hand it made a great difference. After that night she was certainly not _virtuous_, but she was still indeed a _virgin_. It made all the difference in the world because it meant she could give Matthew something she truly _possessed, _something that had nothing to do with the big fat lie of her wealth, which was her own self.

Since their first kiss in the dining room Mary had only dreamt about giving herself to him completely, to let him be her _first, _her _true _first, and her_ last_. But now even that dream had died because Matthew wouldn't even look at her, and she would have had to give all she had to somebody else without ever really knowing what it meant to be with someone you love, not even _once._

_Once_. That small, monosyllabic word shook her up from her own thoughts. She stopped crying all at once and gave a good look at herself. Who was that shadow of a woman, sobbing on her knees under the burning sun of that summer's day? She certainly wasn't Lady Mary Crawley, _no _… she couldn't be. Lady Mary did not kneel improperly on the grass, Lady Mary _did not cry_. When had she become that person? When had her emotion started to take over? Should she blame Matthew for that? No, she shouldn't …

Loving Matthew hadn't made her weak, it had made her strong. Her whole life she had fought against everything that had been imposed to her, she had fought so _constantly_ everyone had thought it was something inherent to her character, that she only did it for the sake of it. Loving Matthew had given Mary a reason to fight, it had made her feel as if all the fighting she had endured since she was a little girl had been worth it. Loving Matthew was the last piece of the puzzle, but fate had decided to mix the tassels once again.

Should she just accept her fate and play along? Mary was not a pessimist, but she was a realist. She knew calling off her wedding with the Duke to run away with a middle-class solicitor would have brought great shame upon her family. And it wasn't that she wouldn't have been able to bare that shame for Matthew's sake because she would have, only … she knew she couldn't be that selfish. Running away wouldn't have only meant for her to cut every relation with her family and the people she loved, it would have meant for _Matthew_ the same thing, possibly with his mother and certainly with Annabelle and Patrick. Mary was sure it would have been absolutely improper for the future Earl and Countess of Grantham to maintain such a relation.

A soft breeze started to blow animating the foliage of the Sycamore tree beside her. Mary stood up quietly and wiped away her tears with her soft, silky handkerchief. She looked around the grounds and the memory of her and her father walking Pharaoh two summers before stormed over her. "_You know my character, Papa. I simply cannot do something because I'm told to. I'm stubborn. I wish I wasn't, but I am._" The words of that obstinate, oblivious girl echoed in her head. _Oh,_ she had no idea of what marvellous and horrible things were going to happen to her. But something about that girl particularly struck her. Her words, her _convictions_ were pure. She knew what she wanted, or at least she knew what she did _not_ want, and she wouldn't let any kind of emotion get in her way.

As she straighten herself a bit more, Mary knew she had to learn from that girl because _now_ she knew exactly what she wanted. She had already established she couldn't have it all, but that did not mean she should stop fighting all at once. Fuel by a new kind of strength, Mary turned her body in the opposite direction and marched back to the house. She knew the eyes of the three witnesses were looking at her with a mix of confusion and concern, but this time she really did not care.

* * *

Annabelle and Patrick watched in silence as Mary stormed back inside the big house without acknowledging their presence. Just as the first daughter of the house disappeared inside the front door, Annabelle turned her head to Isis trotting along in their direction. The young, joyful pup still ran uncoordinatedly and as she reached the couple she threw herself on the grass enthusiastically demanding another dose of cuddles on her belly.

Annabelle knelt down and obliged Isis's request. Pharaoh, Lord Grantham's faithful labrador Annabelle had met when she first arrived, had died right before they had left for the London season and the vibrant Isis was supposed to be his replacement. Ever since Robert had brought the new puppy in the house Annabelle couldn't help feeling a strong connection with the fluffy white lab. Ever since her arrival Isis had been bossed around and expected to match Robert's training standards and it didn't matter how ridiculous it sounded but Annabelle felt very much like a dog in training these days, when she would have very much preferred to run through the grounds and roll on the grass. Luckily for her though, she couldn't really feel like a caged bird, because Patrick was her wings.

"I knew this would happen." Patrick stated solemnly with such concern that rarely left his lips. Annabelle knew he wasn't speaking of Isis' slowness on learning new tricks. "I told him not to get involved with her, but he just did not listen."

Annabelle witnessed him clenching his fist as the uneasiness grew in his eyes. She did not speak at first, instead she raised her hand to reach his wrist and started caressing it gently until the muscles of his hand finally relaxed. "You are one to talk." Annabelle underlined, " You more than anyone should know what is like to have feelings beyond your control."

Patrick's green eyes left the front door and met Annabelle's. He knew she was right but he still had to insist, "This is different. He knew Mary was going to break his heart but he went along with it anyway."

"You make it sound as Mary deliberately broke his heart." Annabelle pointed out bitterly. Maybe she had observed the two less than Patrick had, but she knew it wasn't right to point fingers. "You must have a really dreadful opinion on your cousin if you speak of her like that."

Patrick flinched. He thought it was right to take Matthew's side on the matter, but apparently Annabelle saw it differently. "On the contrary I have the highest regard for Mary," he tried to explain, "Her ability to care for Matthew has only made me think higher of her." he spoke out but he knew Annabelle demanded a full explanation. "But whereas Matthew may have not known what he was taking on, Mary knew it very well. She knew her parents wouldn't have allowed it because … because—"

"Because he is _inferior_. That's what you're trying to say, isn't it?" Annabelle interrupted him, without foreseeing the level of spite in her own words.

"Annabelle _my love_, please … Don't put words into my mouth. You know very well that I am almost as alien to _this world_ as you are! You know my opinion of Matthew exceeds greatly the one I have of all the people we've shaken hands with in the past month altogether! Let's not fight over this, _please …_" Patrick begged her and he knelt down to held Annabelle's pretty face between his hands.

He was right, _of course he was right_. They both knew it didn't take much for them to set each other off, but they had made a promise to each other. Getting married for them did not simply mean deciding to spend the rest of their lives together. Whether they liked it or not, it meant taking on a whole new world, a whole new set of rules. That's why they had agreed to embark this journey together, to learn and make mistakes without letting the other's hand go. By accusing him of thinking poorly of both Matthew and Mary, Annabelle knew she was defying their promise. She knew she was shutting him out.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and her hand was instantly on the back of his neck, brushing his black hair softly, " I just hate to see him suffer like this." she explained. "I cannot help thinking there must be some other reason that has made Mary accept the Duke's offer. I refuse to believe she would give up Matthew for an opportunity to climb the social ladder." Patrick could not reply to her latest assertion, and his heart broke a little as he notice the realization settling in her blue eyes. "Maybe I'm just not used to think that something bad could ever come from loving someone …" she said trembling as his lips met hers. The kissed sweetly, chastely, savouring each other's taste without deepening the kiss too much, both aware that Lord Grantham was still keeping an eye on them.

"It's safe to say we have been rather lucky," Patrick whispered as their lips parted and a smile grew on his face.

"We have," Annabelle agreed, " even if with you I got a lot more than I had ever wished for".

Patrick chuckled, "Out of all the girls I could have fallen in love with, I certainly had to pick the one who did not wish to be a princess when she was little!" he let himself go in his laughter and Annabelle soon followed him. She certainly couldn't be displeased by the fact that to him she was one in a million. "What was it then?" he asked suddenly and Annabelle had to turn her head to face him with a puzzled look.

"What was what?" she asked confused and wondered if her question in english even made sense.

"Your dream," Patrick replied amused, "If you didn't want to be a princess when you were little, then what did you want to be?"

Annabelle smiled, "The only thing I have really wanted was to live in a very big house in the country side with a group of children from every part of the world. A little boy with smooth, chocolate skin … a little girl with pretty almond eyes … I had a whole list with all the different children I wanted and the names I had chosen for them."

Patrick smiled and held her tighter, still baffled by how this young woman never ceased to fascinate him. "Well, this is a _big_ _house_." he joked.

"Yes it is," Annabelle agreed with a smirk matching Patrick's, " but I don't the Dowager Countess would be too keen on us having children of colour."

"No, I don't think she would." Patrick chuckled in unison with her, but his tone quickly became very serious. "Sometimes I tend to forget how hard it must be for you and for that I am sorry."

"Sometimes I think I will never be enough. Sometimes I even wonder if my efforts are worth it." Annabelle expressed sincerely, "But then I remember … and I know I can get through this."

"What do you remember?" Patrick asked naively while brushing his hand lightly on her golden locks.

"I remember I have you by my side and everything doesn't seem so scary anymore."

* * *

Matthew looked for his bicycle with his eyes as the sound of the bell announced he was leaving from the bakery's door. He felt his stomach growling again, so he opened the bag he was holding in his hands and took a good bite of the ham and cheese roll he had purchased. When he had gotten home that morning he hadn't even checked the kitchen drawers because he realized he had completely lost his appetite. But as he had woken up from his deep slumber later that day, he found out the cry of a wild animal he had thought he heard in his dream was in fact the protest of his starving stomach.

Matthew mounted his bicycle and placed the paper bag into the basket, and as he cycled back to Crawley House he savoured already the soothing comfort of the empty house. He never had any reason to complain about Mrs Bird's and Claire's discretion, but if they had been in the house in the state he was, their only presence would have only made him feel even more vulnerable.

When he finally reached the house and dismounted the bike with agility while it was still going, he parked it in its usual place and froze as he looked through the window of his home. All the lights were off as they should have been, but to Matthew there something that didn't feel right at all. He grabbed his bag from the basket and his suspicions were proven right when he went to unlock the front door and found out it was already opened. Without making any brisk movements, Matthew closed the door slowly behind his back and placed the paper bag on the ground.

"Is anybody there?" he asked after the dim light hadn't shown any sinister figure in the hall or in the kitchen. Matthew received no answer to his question, but he could hear someone breathing and a distinct gasp coming from the drawing room as he spoke. He decided not to speak any further, but slowly moved towards the drawing room, trying to make as little noise as he could. He heard the same gasp after he had turned the lights on with a quick movement, but this time he matched the voice with a face, "_Mary_?" he asked incredulously, seriously thinking he might be hallucinating.

"I heard Annabelle saying you would be completely alone in the house," Mary began to explain as she rose from the sofa in the centre of the room. "so I sneaked into my father's study and grabbed the spare key to your house." she finished answering all of his silent questions, "I didn't know if you'd let me in." she justified herself. Her expression was determined, her eyes fixed to his.

"You shouldn't be here." Matthew only managed to say, with his throat going dry at the realization that he was trapped. "I think you should leave," he ordered, knowing nothing good could ever come out of her apologies.

"_No._" she debated, taking him aback. When he looked closely into her brown eyes, Matthew saw such challenge and fierce determination he had never seen a woman direct to a man. "I'm not going to leave and I'm not going to let you interrupt me anymore." she said firmly as she came dangerously closer to him, never breaking their eye contact. " _I love you_. The way I shouldn't … and much, much more than you believe, for how hard you know it is for me to say the word."

"But … _why?_" the words escaped Matthew's mouth as a strangled cry, despite how manly he had meant them to sound. He hadn't meant to let his guard down either, but _she was there_ and she had told him she _loved_ him. If only the room hadn't been so dark, and the desperation in their voices so palpable, Matthew would have easily believed it to be one of his dreams. Or at least the way each and everyone of his wild dreams would begin.

"Of course I don't _want_ to marry him, but I _must_. If there was a way for me to make things right, I would. But I have to marry him and this all I can tell you. I never betrayed you, I never intended to play with your heart because I never planned to fall in love with you."

She was too close now, so close her hands were almost touching his, so close he could feel her warm breath. Her words seemed true, the tenderness in her ways so real, but _why was it so helpless_? What was this big secret she was concealing from him? Why couldn't she tell him? And moreover, why had she come all the way to his house, if there was nothing to be done?

Trying to move on thinking she couldn't care less for him, would have certainly been easier than this. He opened his mouth to voice at least one of his questions, but Mary placed her elegant index finger on his lips, while the determination in her eyes was quickly overcome by an aggressive amount of tears.

"_Please_," she begged, " don't ask me questions I cannot answer. It's no use." she said as she tried to straighten herself. "I couldn't leave things the way they we left them this morning, _but I_—" she meant speak openly about how she felt, but when she had proceeded to retreat her hand from his mouth, Matthew had grabbed it. Mary swallowed as the heat spread through her body from his touch. She lost track of her own thoughts and she realized going on with her speech would have been extremely difficult now. She decided to focus her gaze on their joined hands, being impossible for her to face his stare in that moment. "I realized that even if we may never be man and wife, I don't _want to_ – I mean, I _can't_ … _I—_" _I can't let that man be my first, _she failed to formulate. _It is you who I want to show me what loving a man truly means._

Her heart started to beat uncontrollably and the frustration was about to eat her alive, until she finally turned her head and realized from the crystal blue flames she saw in his eyes that someway, somehow, he had understood. Only a few seconds passed before his lips were on hers. Their hands hadn't wasted their time and were already busy exploring each other's body, while Matthew had pushed her against the wall.

There was no sound left in the room of Matthew's words or Mary's cries, only their painting. Mary moaned loudly as Matthew left her lips to bury his hand in the curve of her neck. His kisses and his touch so passionate and gentle were not only fuelled by his desire alone now, but also by his desperation. He only had the clear perception that he had no more control over his hands when he found them depriving Mary of her dress, trying to work out their way through her corset. Mary in the mean time had freed him of his jacket and was now dealing with the buttons of his morning shirt with her trembling hands. When they finally agreed on taking a break, almost reading each other's mind, to catch their breaths, they looked around themselves and realized the shallowness of that dark room.

Matthew did not think about it twice, and with such strength he didn't know he possessed ( and without warning Mary of his actions, for that matter) he took her into his arms and carried her all the way up the stairs. As they stepped into the master bedroom, their hands and their mouth grew so hungry Matthew feared the wouldn't even make it to the bed. And he was right to fear so, because as they finally made their way to the bed, Matthew lost his balance and landed with his back on the mattress, contrary to what he had intended.

Mary didn't seem so sorry to be on top, and she invited him to raise his torso, guiding his hands gently through the diabolical hooks of her corset. When was finally free of it, vulnerable and exposed before his eyes, Matthew felt as if all the air had escaped his lungs. He couldn't do anything but stare at her. He had known she was beautiful but this was an entirely different matter. Her brown eyes filled with desire, he swollen rosy lips, he long silky dark hair cascading down to her pale bare chest … Matthew knew this was a picture that would have never left his mind.

He proceeded to shower her breast with kisses receiving multiple moans of approval, before Mary had urged him to meet her eyes again, hinting it was now his turn to expose himself to her. Her hands worked together to get him out of his shirt but as the cottoned piece of clothing reached the ground beside them, Matthew noticed her hands were trembling as they wondered near the arousal trapped in his trousers. Noticing her nervousness, Matthew covered her hands with his and just as she had with her corset, he helped her getting rid of his superfluous pants.

When they were both naked, they spent quite some time rolling together on the bed, exploring each other, savouring each other, measuring any kind of detail so they would never, ever forget it. When Matthew felt Mary had grown quite confident in her ways, he rolled on top of her and as their eyes met, they knew it was time. He lost both of his hands through her hair and leaned his head to kiss her tenderly, lingering on her lips on purpose, with his eyes closed and the sweet smell of her skin inebriating his senses.

No one else in the world existed as her brown eyes met his again, staring into his soul and right before he entered her, he whispered "_I love you._" almost kicking himself for not having said it earlier. Mary tried to respond at once, but as the sun set quietly outside the windows of his bedroom, her words mutated into loud groans as they finally became one.

**A/N:**_I promised drama, didn't I? Before you throw rocks at me or question my mental sanity, please remember that I told you not to forget the Duke and the slight changes in his storyline. But just so you know, I never, and I repeat never, write about something for no reason. I like very articulated plots and I love to leave hints here and there. So without giving anything away, this was a subtle *wink wink* to never take anything for granted._

_But now it's your turn, leave a review if you want to make me really happy and tell what do you think of the latest developments. What do you think will happen next? And more importantly, I'd love to hear your opinions about Annabelle and Patrick. They are my babies, so I naturally hold them dear in my heart. We're only halfway through these four's journey and I can't wait to take you all the way with me :)_


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